I’d woken up early and I took a long time getting ready to exist.
“I’ve accomplished everything I wanted out of life, like way beyond my wildest dreams. Anything from here on is just icing. Seriously, if you find out that I died tomorrow, I’m fine. Don’t be sad for me, because I’m not sad. I died with a smile on my face.”
I think it’s the idea of it or maybe it’s just the need to know that we can. You know….have complete control over those we love. But how else can we know how much they love us and care if we don’t have the power to ruin them? See I think what my intoxicated soul just realized was this: trust, that promise really is the base that keeps us safely locked in our insane forms of sanity. The thing is when we love and I mean really love, we give with everything inside the blade that has the possibility to not only ruin but kill. It’s not even the blade that’s a key to the other but instead a suicidal note for the self that we beg our companion never chooses to take. Unfortunately, more so than often he/she does and that is what ends up becoming the thing we know of as life. Pretty sick, isn’t it?
It’s hurt. That’s what makes us the way we are. Our good and bad is exemplified through all the hurt our lives put us through. No matter what we do, life is a battle we’re meant to lose, and I think with good purpose. They say that character is what we’re left with once we’ve lost everything…I agree. We spend every second of everyday wearing a layer or fifty of protection that keeps consolidated the true that another got close to reaching but ended up ruining. What isn’t realized is that the ruin was not in us but instead in the character of his/her own. It hit me today that more than so often, the hurt we feel isn’t associated with the actions we have committed ourselves but instead those of others. We carry the burdens of other people’s mistakes and hold our hearts accountable. So our hurt really is the pain of someone else. The only way we’ve ever known how to decipher the good from the bad, the great from the horrible is through the roller coaster of emotions we experience on a daily basis. The hurt we feel makes us into who we are. It takes real, great, beautiful pain to lose everything that leaves you with nothing but just character. We spend so much time trying to appreciate the moments we feel good, and not enough, if any, being thankful for the ones that made us understand what good really is. If you think about it, we’re always thanking the wrong people and for the wrong things. I’d think it was a shameful thing if I didn’t say that the walls the world created for you weren’t the most beautiful layers of pain I’d ever say I was going to knock away.
I want to believe that my words count for something, anything really. It’s like we go through all these events that are either amazing, perfect, and great, or miserable, sad, and horrible, and we keep telling ourselves that it’s for a reason…some reason. And the twist of it all lies in the fact that the reason isn’t supposed to be known. Because for that reason to be known means the reason wasn’t even a reason at all.
I was born to stand by love and prove that chivalry is not dead. I plan on doing just that.