I
was once a believer. But then now after a few heartbreaks we always say “That
was when I was naïve”. – That was when I
didn’t know the truth in this cruel world. Then something happens –
something always does, and I find myself at the other end of the spectrum. I
scoff at those believing in fate; and doubt people who still believes in love.
Every day I reminded myself that the
sooner we learn the truth, the sooner it will see us free.
Yet,
every night, we just hope that there’s something we can do to fill the
emptiness of our hearts and deep down, we hope we can open up to be a believer
once more. I may have broke my faith, I may have turn my back on the world, on humanity
and on every childhood believe of fairy-tale ending that feeds the possible
existence of true love. But every now and then, there will still be moments
that make the heart skip a beat. A touch. A smile. Those warm eyes. There are
seconds when I still find myself breathless, igniting those fire inside the
heart that has been long put to rest – a flicker of hope of the warmth that I
never think will come to me once again.
Sometimes
we hope the next guy that we open up to could sweeps us off the feet and
present the missing pair of glass shoe and end your curse of single-hood
forever. But as the wrinkles start to grow on the face – everyone on social
media is getting engaged and building a new family. There’s still an impossible
little hope inside that says not to give up.
On
some days I just feel that my life has been cursed. A cursed so hard that each
time I try to open up again it rips the heart to pieces. And sometimes it’s
just so hard to keep up the positivity because love just fails you again and again. We all say we don’t believe in
love anymore. But deep down, deep down those roots, it always will. Because
even the tiniest hope of its existence gives us hope for tomorrow.
It
gives hope to life.