A Mess

Even breathing is hard to do these days. To relax is no longer in my to-do list. All I hear are the amplified beatings of my heart - loud steady thumps that freeze my nerves in each execution. It's a pressing note of what's waiting for me: a hazy tomorrow, and an amateur confession.

The voice of tomorrow is calling me by name. It is taunting my agitation, and mocking my feeble attempts of moving on. It tells me I have no escape. It tells me that my only option is to walk forward with my head raised up high. All I can do is to saunter until I crash into a glass wall; and hopefully, the jagged pieces wouldn't penetrate through my skin and cause collateral injuries to my heart.

Sure, I already have had my fair share of broken hearts. I should, by now, know the effective and efficient ways of easing up the damage. But there are certain things that we just couldn't seem to get our heads around, no matter how pushy we try to be. I can have as many broken hearts a person is entitled to have, and still repeat the same mistakes. Because when it comes to love, I will still wholeheartedly give all of my bits and pieces to the very person who time after time breaks my heart, and I will always love as if it's the only thing I know how to do. Working with logic when it comes to emotion never prospers. In the end, you realize that you just have to deal. Eventually, you just have to admit that like everyone else, you also become a fool for love.

If we come down to it, I've never been sure of anything. Each time I try to unravel a mystery, I usually get lost WITH it. So finding love and losing my mind is just a natural thing. So as breathing hard, and having all my nerves shut down. Because love is erratic... and I'm simply delirious.

Opus: Body Urge - The Great Fiction