Vicious Cycle

You Suffer.

You bear the consequence of apathy. Afraid to reveal the slightest sign of weakness, you do everything – nothing. That desire to escape is too obvious to dismiss. Yet, you lay beside the other, tangled up in a deep ocean of blankets, wondering. You wish for enlightenment though you are certain.

You picture a balloon slipping through a Sunday Child’s hand.

How easy it is to float away and vanish.

Making sense of this trivial affair drives you mad. You yearn for the calm the seas of Matina bring.

How convenient it is to drift away. How effortless it is to let the waves take control and lead you to nowhere.

But you discover that you are on the exact spot 6 months ago. You suffer. Your suffering is unbearable, so you leave. You finally decided to let go…

You Leave.
At last, you chose to listen to the voice inside you. That same screaming voice you suppressed for months. With all options stolen away from you, you resolved to let go. You are satisfied. Pleased. Gratified with the new-found freedom, you revel in its vastness. You welcome it with ardor and you explore it with zeal. But time, and circumstances, made it all seem stale, empty.

Circumstances do alter cases.

You realized how shallow it all was, how it lacked thought, lacked feeling, devoid of passion. You feel exhausted and empty. You delude yourself into thinking you are free; though you are sure you just want to be preoccupied with something, anything. Now you seek familiarity. But it brings you back to the place that you are running away from. You are crying on the inside. You breakdown…

You Weep.

Just a touch, a dialogue, an encounter.

Reason and Emotion contradict. Logic dictates that what was done was best, but your spirit whispers otherwise. You are torn. What if’s fill your mind. It is driving you insane. Regret sets in and swallows you whole. You want it to stop.

It’s my fault. I have no one else to blame.

You long for an advice from a friend who knows you inside-out. You long for the care of a Grandmother who only breathes in your mother’s anecdotes. Accepting the fact that you neither have any, you curl up like a child and cry yourself to sleep.

You wake up and you hate yourself…

You Hate.
You hate to conceal your grief. You hate… to forget. But how can you forget something you hate? For you cannot hate what you do not know. You punish yourself even more by thinking of the infinite number of options you could have pursued, the unlimited possible things you could have said, the numerous paths you could have traveled.

How did I get here?

You wish Shinigamis were real. You wish you would find a Death Note lying in your school grounds. You would use it not to cleanse the world of murderers and thieves, not to create a Utopia of the just and the fair, not to be the God of Death on Earth. Rather, you would use it against the person who caused you pain, the person who left you with all this mess - yourself.

You learned to hate.

You Learn.
You became immune from further damage. You cannot recognize pleasure or pain. You let life push you around; you are tired of fighting against it. You learn to unlearn.

You had your fair share and you want no more. You learned how to live alone again. You learned how to adapt, how to fake a genuine smile effortlessly. And through this process of learning you feel nothing.

Was it all worth it?

You feel nothing, and in this numbness you silently suffer... You suffer.

And it finally dawned to you that you are trapped in this cycle forever, a vicious cycle you can not escape.