Why is it that only when you give up on trying for something you want, it then manages to fall into your lap? You stumble in the dark for years, trying, postulating, experimenting, hoping, forcing, pushing yourself into madness for something you desire more than anything else. You grasp endlessly at the end of a rope that can save your fall, only to barely touch the rope itself as you plummet into pain. You hunt, you change, you learn, and adapt but STILL, no matter what you do, you’re undone by your own insecurities, your own weakness, no matter how strong your strengths might be.
You keep trying like a hamster in a wheel, hoping the wheel will break free . You keep reaching blindly into the night, unsure of what monster might be waiting to pull you into eternal torment. You know something might reach back that tears you limb from limb but you reach still, in hopes that whatever may be out there, is someone like you, reaching back, looking for the slightest touch of reciprocity. You hurt yourself knowingly, you scar your heart over and over, you create triggers and issues that you never had before, all in a hope that someone may be willing to share your strengths and love.
You know that each time you reach, you’re even more less likely to find what you search for, similar to an old tire wearing down after miles of wear, ready to explode. But you reach still, like a fool with a sickness in hopes of being cured. This sickness, this hope, this barely lit flame within you still gasps for oxygen to grow, to live, to thrive, to love, and each failure had your flame dies. It goes against your very logic to keep trying at some point because you know each failure leads closer to eternal agony and the permanent extinguishing of your heart flame… but you reach still. Like a fool who can’t learn, like a child who is so overwhelmed by desire for what they want, they blatantly ignore the consequences of said actions.
You reach the point at some point in life, where your flame is so small that you feel dead inside. You feel like no matter what you do, the result will always be the same. You understand now that all of this reaching has destroyed you for that one soul that might still be out there to reach back. You now realize that even in the event you somehow manage to find success, it’s too late. You’re too dead inside from trying to even have anything to give back if you were to find her. You’re too full of triggers and mistrust. You’re too used to offer anything of worth and you start to realize that you no longer are what you used to be. You’re strengths are fossilized remains of an ancient powerful beast. She may still be out there but you’re no longer worthy to protect her, to shelter her, to guard her heart, for your heart is now ruined and scarred over.
In the process of trying to find her, you’ve succumb to the woes of battle. You give up and realize she’ll be better off with many more than yourself now. Many more will be able to shelter her where you now fail. You grow angry and rage filled at society for fucking you over, for molding the issues that dictated the strikes you’ve received direct to the heart, person after person. You grow furious with contempt at what the world has become, what you have become, and you begin to give up the fight. You’re torn, worn, shredded at the core of you’re soul from the constant using, stabbing, and to what end? You never reached her when it would have mattered. You’re kind aren’t welcome here anymore. You don’t belong here. This vicious cycle of hell is constructed to repeat itself indefinitely.
You stand back, you realize it’s the way it is now. It’s the way it will continue to be, it’s just the way of the world, because the few that see like you see, that feel like you feel, have also given up and given into the darkness that now envelopes society. They remain so small in number that even if you located a few… it doesn’t matter.
You’ve given up, you’ve lost, you now realize that no matter what… it’s over. You grieve, you accept your fate and the fate of the world and have little desire to do anything. At the moment you accept your fate…. From nowhere you could expect….there she is, just as scarred as you, just as withered and beaten, just as used and triggered by life’s constant torment. She’s been searching like you and has also given up. The amount of flame within the two of you may not even be enough to kindle anything short of a poof of smoke, but the coals lingering under the ashes within your heart glow barely. They are barely warm to the touch.
She somehow reaches out to you. Why? Why even try at this point, but she does. She blows on the coals of your heart like an angel trying to save the flame. You don’t even know why, but the fact she has anything within her, you stoke her coals, all in hopes that somehow you can find enough warmth to for one night start a fire before the moon rises. If for one single night, just one single setting of the sun, you and her can fall asleep in each others arms, it will have been worth your entire life of heartache. If you can just share your embers with her as you both fade into nothingness…. It will be worth it.
How sad have I become, that one night of joy is worth a lifetime of misery? How miserable has life made me, that one blink in eternity within each others arms is worth the lashings of a lifetime to the soul? How useless is the flame within, that I can’t manage to feed it, now that I’ve finally found fuel? But alas, she feels the same. She blows on your heart embers and for what remains of them, they warm her in the same fashion that her very existence warms your dying soul. You rest in each others arms as the sun sets, and in that moment of each others presence, you can swear eternity has stood still… You don’t notice the time passing or the changing hues of the sky falling into the stars. You notice her, her heart beat, her soft hair, the softness of her cheek against your lips. You notice the beating of her heart as she rests against your chest, and for a moment nothing else is there. There is no pain, no tears, no darkness, no disdain. For a moment it’s just bliss and the two of you, and for that moment you realize, the pain was worth it. For the fleeting and eternal moment you hold each other, it was all worth it somehow, for that moment beams into the chasms of time and eternity as a mirror for others to search by. It stands as a reminder and an example, and for a short time, it shines so bright that we know why pain exists… to show us the treasure of love.
Private souls, destined to love;
On different sides of life;
Unknowing of true bliss thereof;
Yet carved from the same knife;
Disjoined worlds have been our home;
Partitioned by two paths;
But penned within one single tome;
We’re a heart split in halves;
Her fragile heart still pounds within;
Surrounded by the guards;
She hears his ballad sung therein;
Drifting, slightly jarred;
Upon the ground he finds the sun;
Weaving into view;
Heralding that enchanting one;
of which he never knew;
I beg the eve to shield it’s cloak;
Lest I openly command;
Another dawn shall not be broke;
Without taking up your hand;