Fucked Up. Humor Me.

“Here she is, all mine, trying her best to give me all she can. How could I ever hurt her? But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.”  - Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

I feel like my chest is about to explode – I can’t sleep. I can’t talk. I can eat. I can’t think. Lot of emotions are running through my chest and I can’t seem to let it out. Like, if I don’t write it down and figure it out one by one, my chest and head are gonna split open.

What the fuck just happened? I kept asking this question over and over again. Is this gonna be another KC-and-a-bottle-of-tequila-sessions? Or the KC-with-her-car-far-far-away?

“I DON’T CARE!” Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace.“I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE!” “You do care,” said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. “You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

I thought I’ve grown numb of all this crap. I thought I can handle it, or that I don’t care as much. Because that’s the only way so I won’t breakdown. That’s the only way so I won’t get hurt. But all this strong facade and keeping up a straight face persona are all bullshit and has garnered all the crap in the world. I just want this to end. I want this pain to end. But how? How am I supposed to let it go when my alter-ego knows for a fact that this is what I needed to FEEL alive, to BE alive once more. That this is essential as to breathing. Tell me, how can you force yourself to stop breathing?

“Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.” ― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

I can say that I’m a strong woman, a survivor. I can handle a physical fight when its crucial. I’ve been beaten and bruised by my two ex lovers back then. It haunted me for years but yes, I surpassed that nightmare in my life. You can throw stones and sticks at me and I can just pay no heed to it…

Very unfortunately, your words stabs like a knife that gashed a hole through my chest. Little by little it sinks in and I can’t pull it out and the lingering pain drives me insane. It seems so hard for you to notice. Maybe you would when all the blood in me has been drained out. And those are just words… And the saddest part was, I know you meant every word of it…

“Take it from me: If you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging up your back and runing its fingers up your spine, the best thing to do-the only thing-is run.” ― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

The difference between you and me is that I’m a fixer while you tend to run when threat appears on the shadow. That’s what you do; you run, you quit. While it’s in my nature to try and mend things; though I have no idea whether its good or bad.

So tell me, how’s it gonna be? Are you gonna run again this time, or are you gonna mend this.