“Congratulations!
I’m so happy for you both.” I wrote it on the wall over and again for the past
1 year, even with the pandemic going on everyone seems to be still moving on
with their life; getting engaged, married
or having a newborn. When was the
last time I fell in love? I asked myself over and again, I know I am
capable of being happy all again, but that mere thought is sufficient for me to
withdraw from the world and hide myself under the blanket all over again.
As much as I want to fall in love in this lifetime… I can’t. Because this world has taught me to become a thunderstorm; it has taught me that people love to break hearts rather than heal them. And now I am a thunderstorm made out of rage, I destroy people in the most beautiful way possible. I will break anyone that come close, I am not whole, I am pieces with sharp edges that will make anyone bleed if they come too close. I am a fall, deeper than anyone can think.
I am not heartless, I am just numb that I have let my anxiety and sorrow grow a monster inside of my lungs that cause me to breathe heavy every time I try. I am no longer the victim of the story, I am the villain. It just hurt each and every time knowing that love is not something I could learn again after all these years.