The Complicity of One’s Interpreted Feelings

I often find myself condemning a state of melancholy that results from people’s influences in the feelings.

I thought that, when by the time it occurs, it’s always been me who must take the solid responsibility due to the incompetence and failure of barricading myself up from feeling vulnerable and sentimental from the external things outside of myself.

I acknowledge it enough, that not even one single living being in this world is entitled to dictate my merriment and cheerfulness and that it paradoxically applies to my heartache and desolation. I’m fully aware that i’m responsible for perceiving my own feelings.

I’m frightened with the fact that almost everything is paradoxical. To feel such expected feelings, get along with it, but like a suicide grenade, only for me to witness them to eventually explode and make my body turns into an abundance of fleshes falling on the floor like confetti.

Just like they said, trusting people is like handing someone a gun and to foolishly wish them to not shoot you in the fucking head.

It’s like you play with fire until it backfires toward you and scorches the shit out of your body and slowly turns you into ashes.

But, come to think of it….

if i try to preserve this so-called “anti-attachment” scheme and implement them in life, wouldn’t it be hard to distinguish which occasions i should interpret it to if i don’t have the solid indicators to back up my inquiries to determine that anticipation?

What if all this time, i misjudged and misintepreted the feelings of me being profoundly sincere of valuing things?

What if all this time, it was just me being nonchalantly denial on the fact that i’m capable of giving and receiving love? i mean.. isn’t that a good thing…? you know, to at least have something to offer…?

And encountering the fact that everything is almost paradoxical, with being in love consists the possibility to grieve, aren’t they inherently interwined and reciprocal? isn’t that how costs and benefits works? we pay to feel love with the contract of us getting the prospect to suffer from it.

We comprehend that everything is temporary as it’s a common knowledge that’s embedded on everyone.

But, could you imagine that hypothetically, it’s the other way around? that everything is immortal, would you be able to value them as sincere and as profound just like how it’s mortal?

And to heal from it, even if it requires a hell of months or even decades with a bag full of intense sufferings and unpleasant constant reminiscents of the past, there isn’t much left to say except to admit that it’s a phase.

Afterall, don’t you think that this is the ultimate way to learn what you don’t desire in people? these experiences, aren’t these the things that make humans, humans?

Go ahead, take your time. Nothing ever makes sense. You have forever. Mad at the circumstances. They deserve to be shouted at. They deserve to be blamed at. Scream at them. Bend on your knees and cry until your lacrimal glands are no longer produce tears but blood. On the long road, you will figure things out just like you always do. Because in the end, it requires nothing but a little bit of faith in you.