A flagrantly wicked cycle

I love. I weep. I recuperate from pain. I love again, and then weep again. Then recuperate from pain again.

This is one flagrantly wicked cycle.

I have always been like this. I never learned my lessons. Or I may have learned a lesson; it is not just inculcated into my obtuse brain.

Yesterday, on my way home I was emotionally disturbed. I was very silent and perturbed. Unconsciously, out of pittance for me, a lonely tear fell from my swollen eyes. I remember reminding myself of the lines I always utter:

“I know that you never asked me to love you. Therefore, I must never act like you are obligated to love me back.”

It was such a very powerful line that it brought forth more tears to my eyes.

When I got home, I headed straight to my room. With all the tears, with all the frustrations, with all the desperations, with all the pains, with all the sufferings, with all the altercations, with all the turbulences, with all the turmoil, with all the anxieties, with all the fears, with all the apprehensions, with all the understatement, I cry my heart out. I felt exhausted and weary to all the saga of life. It made me sick and tired. I sob. I wept. My heart was so overwhelmed with grief that I wasn’t able to contain it anymore. My heart can only take so much. My heart busted. My heart shattered.

But the point of it all is that I am still hanging on a single lose thread. I am raging against a lamentable contention. I am fighting for a losing battle.

Bare truth, I know that it will happen again. I am just so damn fucking the most stupid. I know that it will be another swoosh in the air, a hopeless attempt, a desperate struggle. But I will still give it a try, and yes, I am still giving it another try.

Indeed. I am not perfect, I will never be perfect nor be even closed to perfect. I have thousands of intolerable flaws.

I am not rich; I live a life in abject poverty. I am not intelligent, I am damn airhead. I am not brilliant, I have a crippled brain. I am not good; I am the worst and the most ill-behavioral poisonous bitch you may have known. No one can withstand me. Everything about me is so disgusting. I am a failure. Love is conditional and nobody will love a failure.

I know he has multitudinous reasons to tell me if I dare to retort. But oh no, I opt not to argue about it. I know that my mind is too feeble to hurl back and ask. In the first place, I may not have even a tinge of right to question why. I have to take accountability to whatever aftermaths my foolishness brings forth.

He is the most wonderful person I have ever met. He is one beautiful creation that this soil may want to keep. He is adorable. He is lovable.

He is simple. He is handsome. He is charming. He is intelligent. He is brilliant. He is caring to his family. He is refined. He is nice. He has a good heart.

At times, he can be so blatant to me. He can be so brazen to me. But that is perfectly okay. I know that my argumentations will be worthless for I am just a jerk – a too good for nothing, irksome piece of crap. And I won’t rebut, though. I’ll just suffer the pain in my solitary silence. Sometimes, I want to submit to the faintest inkling in my brain that I am just creating my own perplexities and distress.

Nevertheless, I still hope and pray for the best that we can iron things out. I still refuse to entertain unlikely thoughts. I still hold on. I think it is just too premature to draw a conclusion.

With all honesty and fairness, I appreciate all the efforts he has exerted. I appreciate the time he spent with me. I appreciate the talks we had. I appreciate every small acts of love; they mean so much to me. I am very thankful to that.

Should he spare a minute of his time to read this, I’d say ” sorry for my all my flaws and imperfections, thanks for everything”.

I hope I am right in deciding to hang on.

God bless him. God bless me, too. #

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