Hang On!

"Valar morghulis." -Jaqen H'ghar

Maybe there's maybe nothing poetic actually about getting your heart broken, by a person, by the fate, or even, by yourself. Maybe there's nothing poetic really about getting every bit of your vulnerable little heart shattered to pieces, and there's only gonna be you collecting and sorting back those pieces. Maybe there's nothing poetic about a person being an asshat, because that's pretty much what they are -- just, an asshat. Maybe there's nothing poetic on crying your ass to sleep at nights and seeing the tear dried up on your left cheeks the next morning. Maybe there's nothing poetic about anything or everything tragic, for that matter.

But for one after another, and seem to never end tragic events that happens in your life, you learn to cope with it. You learn to live with the pain, with the unfairness that life has to offer that it has become not as hurtful as it once felt -- because you've become too numb and that the pain sensor underneath your skin is immune to that kind of stuff. And if that's not a good thing, I don't know what is. Here's an analogy, the first time a soldier got shot, he gets traumatized and think that he's in the greatest pain that exist in the world. But, what if after several shots taken, he gets more and more immune that at some point he no longer feel pain for bullets and grenades, isn't that a freaking good thing? Of course it is, you idiot! 

Right now, I wanna tell that every heartbreak and every heartcrack there is, hurts like a magnificently hot and bright hell, but, like how hell got 7 levels, I am now in the easiest level, because it doesn't hurt as the first time. Despite the fact that the pain struck at the same exact spot and jagged the heart even more, trust me, I'm taking it easy now. Therefore, one way or another, I'm actually thankful for the existence of various asshats that made a visit into my pathetic little book, because they are the reason the way I feel today, they are also the reason the person I am today. Partly, at least. So, here I am writing to remind myself that like how the happiness doesn't last, the pain will somehow sink into the bottom of the heart. I know, I know, that at some point it will resurface, but what makes you think you can't deal with it for the second time?

Hang on there, you silly little self,
M. Qarin Al Maduri