1. Do not believe in love.
2. Or boys.
Both concepts are condusive to disillusionment, false empowerment, and gross giddiness. They are unprofessional. They wreak havoc. Their only benefit is that in their wake, we can understand more about how humans are endlessly stupid, and that heartbreak has a strong, positive, linear correlation with multivariable test scores.
But this isn't about smiling from ear to ear. This isn't about staying up until 2 am discussing the elephant in the room instead of making small talk. There is no tangible incentive. This is partly the result of approximately 570 miles, although in any other context after these years, it would've been a great fulfillment of Art Assignment #1. A trade of the ice-creams-named-frappacinos and a Tim Horton tea cup would've been cute.
And so but. I would like to avoid talking about rules 1 and 2.
People say that there is meaningless suffering, pain that does nothing but tear through the white sheets that are stretched taut, bearing the will to live. If you search "pain" on Tumblr, they give you a suicide hotline before you can see the search results. Then, you see the blades open veins and a completely colorless world. You see the faces of people who have lost everything, the blood of those who gave it all. You see the dried skin that flakes with the merciless wind, indifferent with a wholehearted conviction that this is the way that it will always be.
That was what I believed. That was what I felt. Every single day began and ended with conflict. The splices of joy were cut short with fatigue and doubt. Sometimes, I didn't want to be alive. Anything was better than the cold, spiraling descent. I did ask God - why? What amount of strength will compensate for so much hatred, ignorance, indulgence? When I wanted to tear myself apart, all of those deep conversations seemed so little, because like I have said again and again... for all the love and empathy in the world, no one has ever understood.
I wondered for six years. I prayed in those years. I wrote and read and talked, and now, God presents this before me, and now I understand. The pain does not diminish. The regret is not subdued. But God... God, I understand. And for all of the care and responsibility that comes with such an unexpected joy, I know that every, single day was worth it.
People say that there is meaningless suffering, pain that does nothing but tear through the white sheets that are stretched taut, bearing the will to live. If you search "pain" on Tumblr, they give you a suicide hotline before you can see the search results. Then, you see the blades open veins and a completely colorless world. You see the faces of people who have lost everything, the blood of those who gave it all. You see the dried skin that flakes with the merciless wind, indifferent with a wholehearted conviction that this is the way that it will always be.
That was what I believed. That was what I felt. Every single day began and ended with conflict. The splices of joy were cut short with fatigue and doubt. Sometimes, I didn't want to be alive. Anything was better than the cold, spiraling descent. I did ask God - why? What amount of strength will compensate for so much hatred, ignorance, indulgence? When I wanted to tear myself apart, all of those deep conversations seemed so little, because like I have said again and again... for all the love and empathy in the world, no one has ever understood.
I wondered for six years. I prayed in those years. I wrote and read and talked, and now, God presents this before me, and now I understand. The pain does not diminish. The regret is not subdued. But God... God, I understand. And for all of the care and responsibility that comes with such an unexpected joy, I know that every, single day was worth it.
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