I know I am able to love. That much humanity is still left in me. Though I doubt that I would waste my time on all those love games if I had a choice, but when it happens, there's no way around it. When it happens, you must do more not only for yourself, but for others too.
Human is an interesting subject - everything can be wrong and he will still waste all his life thinking about it when the only thing he had to do is change something. We often forget that we create our own path, so only the fortunate ones are capable of truly living. Most of us just exist. We exist because it seems everything that is happening around us and sometimes within us doesn't really depend on us. Even when we try our best, sometimes things just don't work out as they were supposed to. All of this just strengthen these suspicions that someone else and not us is in control. Maybe it's just a consequence of endless chaos? Or maybe there's a devil putting sticks in our wheels while angels are snoring in the clouds?
Human is an interesting subject - if he can't explain something, he will create his own truth that he will be persistent to believe in. Fantasies become facts, expectations become fantasies and that little grain of ignorance blossoms in his brain. The most dangerous illness for those who want to live long and boring lives. Yes, really. Ignorance makes your life mediocre.
This applies in almost any case except war and love. Two things you almost never avoid in life. But they are so difficult to grasp and understand that ignorance is pretty common around here. You and I, we are probably in the same boat. When we love, we try our best but sometimes we forget that we only have one chance to do it right. Just like in a war, right?
Just like we fight in wars, we choose to love because that's what our destiny wants us to do. Even if we don't want to, we still do it because it's our duty (possibly even endless one). We go to war (or love) only with good intentions, but we still destroy everything that is in sight.
No? Am I wrong? Maybe you're different. You see, I am even more interesting subject - if I can't explain something, I will create my own truth that I will persist to believe in until someone suggests a better explanation. But that's not what I want to talk about today. Now I want to understand why do I love with good intentions and still manage to create more harm than good.
Maybe that's why I don't desire to love. It doesn't matter that I can. I just don't want to. Unlike most people, love makes me pathetic creature and that's the reason I can be so difficult. Though I have to admit I despise myself less when I'm not alone. But you will never experience real pain until you notice love fading away from your partner's eyes. You will never feel the weight of your soul until people you love doesn't want to believe in you anymore. There is no greater pain than loved one's disappointment even when you give everything that you can and, sadly, it's still not enough. Depression can take a toll on you after all.
Maybe I'm not that surprised - my short life dictates than I'm not a honest person at all. I'm not reliable or responsible, I rarely think of consequences of my own actions, I am impulsive so I barely invest in my own future. I don't usually care about my health, eat once per day, sleep when I can and talk when it's necessary. That's what I've been most of my life and probably most of it still stands.
And destiny still provides me love that I can't handle. Maybe that's life's way of telling a joke, or maybe I'm just learning things the hard way. And I keep making the same mistakes even if I don't want to make any decisions.
The thing is you can't change me. You can't take away me from myself. I'm not the one who cares about pointless full-time jobs, unpaid health care or an empty wallet. I'm not the one who celebrates all holidays or enjoys a success story of a friend. People have to adapt to me, tolerate me. They can never cross my path if I'm determined to do something even if they don't understand what it is. The only thing that matters for me is me, as difficult as it is to admit. Even when I want everything to be good, nothing is ever right.
And now I again witness this vanishing vitality of love. I just stand there and think how did I let this happen again? Why do I allow myself to be responsible for another person's happiness when I can't even take care of myself? And why do we ultimately decide not to talk about these things?? Why do we love even though we know we can't?
Maybe that's just a truth I created myself. Or maybe that is the truth - a bunch of questions we will never have answers to.
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