There are always stories about happy endings. An awesome loft with the two golden hearts nesting amidst the chaos of supericiality is not an impossibility but it is not abundant. And that is when all the problems start to appear. At the end of the day, who would not want to be part of the oh-so-glorious happy endings? Lust in the silver lining of the holy love, cheating casting shadows of suffocating. We, the fragile and vulnerable, are willingly taking all the risks, even that means losing ourselves, forgetting all the values and goals, shaking off the old yet so precious inner self. And you have guessed it correctly. I am one of those.
I have never ever felt so lost. It is such a scary feeling. I fear of waking up everything not knowing what the future entails. That nauseous feeling when you know every step that you make now will somehow determine the next day. I am afraid of losing the footsteps albeit being able to see the road, clearly. But why oh why me? I fear the endlessness. I lost the control over myself. I lost the inner me I once had incessantly complained about.
oh sweetness madness,
oh thy glorious sadness,
I am yet falling again. I just hope that I would pick myself up just in time.
