looking at that space. it reminded you about the entire journey of you finally finding yourself here. the almost endless search, solitary introspects and countless meltdowns.
interesting how much that inch of space can draw things out from your head. about monotony, being stagnant, and basically just being --- this.
being this when you have so much to give and do. when the picture of life ahead is strangely different from the idea you have framed before.
is this something you can work on or bear for the rest of your life?
it makes it more complex when loving seem to be more difficult. not because an emotion is absent but because competing to provide more than what is the other resonates becomes rather tiring and unachievable.
you are caught in between crossroads: when your youth is clamoring for your potentials while your perspective cries for stability.
funny how it is all happening inside but you can not seem to find the answer within. but its even funnier, knowing that this was everything you wanted --- the fruit of waiting and those forgotten memories; but now you cannot seem to find the right facilities to hold on it.
you rose up from the bed and stood next to the remains of a not distant memory. trying to focus on the smallest details from the lines, curves and minute movements: basically tracing back the reasons.
more than happiness and passion, it is never easy to claim contentment. but it is interesting how most, position time in a paradigm of pure emotions and rationalization.
somehow, it torn us; and our ideas of a perfect companionship. asking how can someone drop something everyone has been dying to be in? something invested with so much and have managed to have stayed for the longest time--- until now?
tonight, you might write the same sad story over again or perhaps a new one. but regardless, of where your pen leads you, promise me, you will neither be scared of making a decision nor come up with something just out of your volition.