We’re cautious, we’re afraid, we don’t want to be bitter
and we don’t want to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. We break
hearts to save our own and we can live years without telling someone how we
feel because we never know if they’re going to feel the same way. The truth is,
we still try, but we don’t do it wholeheartedly anymore, we only do things when
timing is on our side, when we feel it’s safe.
We still hope, at the mean time we count on the possibilities
that could go wrong, on how good things will be short-lived, on how we assume
everything it’s going to go wrong because it’s easier to deal with bad outcomes
when you expected them. We live, but we don’t completely give in to happiness,
we don’t believe that good things will last, we think that life will somehow
take it all back.
We stopped believing in miracles ever since our dreams
became nightmares. We don’t want to go through the suffering all over again, to
have our hearts sink into the ground again, to cry uncontrollably again and to
feel weak all over again. We avoid all risk of feeling pain all over again, we avoid loving and being loved in return.
But on the darkest night, I wish pain didn’t change us, it
didn’t get so deeply into us that we can’t love,
live, hope or dream like we used to. I wish we could change pain instead of
pain changing us, so we can find our way to be ourselves again, to be the people we used to be before we
were broken.