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pacificpikachuYou know, as a general rule, I don't usually regret. I've gone through almost all of my life just living--and once something happened, it just happened, and that was that. There were very few times I wished I could just go back and change what happened, and there were very few times that I regretted decisions I made.
Right now, I can't help but wish I had dealt with certain things differently. I wish I had told people things earlier than I did. I wish I had spoken when I was silent. I wish I had valued things more that I used to think would never change. I wish I had told my stories, I wish I had shared my pain with others, I wish I had realized how I was beginning to define myself. I wish I had realized how deep my shell was becoming. I wish I had known I would have to let him go--because maybe then, I could have prepared myself to do so. Do I even know how to let go? I don't think I do. I'm not even sure if I'm capable of it.
I know now what pain is. I know now what love is. I have tasted insanity now--and realized just how cold, how painful, how hellish true insanity is. If my twelve-year-old self could see me as I am now, she'd be shocked and horrified over what I've become. Why? Because I've become exactly what I promised myself I would never be.
I used to have inner peace. I'd almost go so far as to say I was close to enlightenment, the way I was. And yet, I chose this path anyway--this path of human emotion, raw love, pain. I never knew it would hurt so much, and yet...if I could go back, I don't know what choices I would make. I think they might just be the same ones I made the first time.
I think one of my problems is that I build these sandcastles all the time--these beautiful, towering, pristine sandcastles. And yet...I can't accept that they are made out of sand, and that someday, the tide will wash them all away. People would usually just find a different medium--something that the tide couldn't take down--but me... I love the sandcastles so much that I can't stop building them, more and more grand, every time, more beautiful--and I can't help but run around and try to stop the tide from coming, and I can't help but be upset every time when my beautiful creations are turned into nothing.
If this one doesn't work out, once everything is said and done, I can't say whether I will ever love anyone romantically ever again. I wish I could promise myself that I won't--I wish I could say that, definitively, I will never suffer like this again. But...that would be building another sandcastle, now wouldn't it? Just like the first one. Suffice to say, though, at this point in my life--I can't picture anyone but him in that place. I'm beginning to realize that...at least, the way it's going at the moment...he probably won't be in that place, no matter how hard I work for it. Maybe someday... Maybe... But probably not. That's hard enough for me to realize for now. It could take me years to come to this realization, and truly understand it. I don't want anyone else. I don't want love. I accepted this because it snuck up on me unexpectedly, and because...well, because it was real. Most things in my life--the things that really matter to me--are not real, in one sense or another.
And I'll never be the same person again. I'm like the last unicorn... I could be changed back into a unicorn after being human for a time, but I will never be the same again--for I have felt regret, and love--and those are emotions a unicorn is never supposed to feel.
Honestly, I could go on like this for ages. I sort of feel like I'm beginning to understand some things (whether I want to understand them or not), and in my current mindset, I feel like I'm looking at myself from a distance. I know this insight isn't going to last, so I wish I could write it all down--all the things I'm thinking about at this moment--but unfortunately, I must go off to bed. I'll save the angst and insightful ponderings for another time, when I don't need to go to bed.
Right now, I can't help but wish I had dealt with certain things differently. I wish I had told people things earlier than I did. I wish I had spoken when I was silent. I wish I had valued things more that I used to think would never change. I wish I had told my stories, I wish I had shared my pain with others, I wish I had realized how I was beginning to define myself. I wish I had realized how deep my shell was becoming. I wish I had known I would have to let him go--because maybe then, I could have prepared myself to do so. Do I even know how to let go? I don't think I do. I'm not even sure if I'm capable of it.
I know now what pain is. I know now what love is. I have tasted insanity now--and realized just how cold, how painful, how hellish true insanity is. If my twelve-year-old self could see me as I am now, she'd be shocked and horrified over what I've become. Why? Because I've become exactly what I promised myself I would never be.
I used to have inner peace. I'd almost go so far as to say I was close to enlightenment, the way I was. And yet, I chose this path anyway--this path of human emotion, raw love, pain. I never knew it would hurt so much, and yet...if I could go back, I don't know what choices I would make. I think they might just be the same ones I made the first time.
I think one of my problems is that I build these sandcastles all the time--these beautiful, towering, pristine sandcastles. And yet...I can't accept that they are made out of sand, and that someday, the tide will wash them all away. People would usually just find a different medium--something that the tide couldn't take down--but me... I love the sandcastles so much that I can't stop building them, more and more grand, every time, more beautiful--and I can't help but run around and try to stop the tide from coming, and I can't help but be upset every time when my beautiful creations are turned into nothing.
If this one doesn't work out, once everything is said and done, I can't say whether I will ever love anyone romantically ever again. I wish I could promise myself that I won't--I wish I could say that, definitively, I will never suffer like this again. But...that would be building another sandcastle, now wouldn't it? Just like the first one. Suffice to say, though, at this point in my life--I can't picture anyone but him in that place. I'm beginning to realize that...at least, the way it's going at the moment...he probably won't be in that place, no matter how hard I work for it. Maybe someday... Maybe... But probably not. That's hard enough for me to realize for now. It could take me years to come to this realization, and truly understand it. I don't want anyone else. I don't want love. I accepted this because it snuck up on me unexpectedly, and because...well, because it was real. Most things in my life--the things that really matter to me--are not real, in one sense or another.
And I'll never be the same person again. I'm like the last unicorn... I could be changed back into a unicorn after being human for a time, but I will never be the same again--for I have felt regret, and love--and those are emotions a unicorn is never supposed to feel.
Honestly, I could go on like this for ages. I sort of feel like I'm beginning to understand some things (whether I want to understand them or not), and in my current mindset, I feel like I'm looking at myself from a distance. I know this insight isn't going to last, so I wish I could write it all down--all the things I'm thinking about at this moment--but unfortunately, I must go off to bed. I'll save the angst and insightful ponderings for another time, when I don't need to go to bed.
