You’re in a crowd, but you’re alone. You explain, but that just makes things harder to understand than they initially were. You speak, but you can’t be heard, or you’re not listened to. When you’re silent, everyone hears. When you’re down, no one wants to help you up, but when you’re up, everyone wants to drag you down. They tell you to hold on when you’re trying to let go. They tell you to let go when you’re trying to hold on. You’re dying while you’re living, and living while you’re dying.
Life is pervaded by the essence of irrational irony.
You talk to a person present in the flesh and you’re ignored. You talk to your “wall” on a social media platform and people who aren’t well-enough acquainted with you connect the dots of your untold emotions. You are forced to wear a smile that conceals the scars lest someone should see them and question your sanity or gloat over your probable insanity. You are forced to line your eyes with kohl to camouflage the deed all the midnight tears have done, because people seem to notice, but won’t seem to understand. You love someone, but your love to them is no more than the earth they trample underfoot.
Life is garnished with the oil of inexplicable indifference.
You are told by people that you will be understood, but ultimately, you end up being either not understood or misunderstood. You are told to stay put by someone who persistently tries to push you off balance when you’re like a feather amidst an air current. You choose your path and traverse it only to realize you’ve been treading the wrong way all this while. You gain something only to realize it won’t last forever, but you lose something and realize that it will be lost forever, like a drop in a boundless ocean.
Life is sprinkled with a dash of inevitable idiosyncrasy.
But life has to go on through it all, doesn’t it? And it does…
You know you’re not losing life’s battle, you’re just fighting your way up from the bottom.
Life is crowned with the indomitable spirit that surmounts the issues so insurmountable.
Contrary emotions are like sworn nemeses in the medieval epoch. They find a place that can cater well to their need of habitation and they proceed to pretentiously coexist peacefully and convincingly, but as time goes by, their true intent to overtake the kingdom and overthrow the ruler is made manifest, and that is precisely how the war of emotions kicks off.
Hatred enters the battlefield armed with his weapon of poison, hurt with his arrows, indifference with his shield and insult with its club. Only love enters unarmed, sans even a single means of defense.
In course of combat, love is wounded mortally- struck, impaled and blown, temporarily weakened and incapacitated, but not enough to give up the fight. It allows itself to be victimized until the assailing foes themselves grow weary of the fight and retreat in defeat.
Love, though wounded, triumphs in sweet victory and basks in humble glory. It restores and rejuvenates itself and the Kingdom of the Heart that was subject to much attrition.
Love neither is a fighter nor a killer, but a conqueror. It is its own weapon- a weapon that eliminates what breaks and restores what has been broken.
There is that one feeling that cuts deeper than a razor-sharp scalpel- hurt. Hurt is a consequence of love- love that you gave but never received in the way you hoped to. There are ways of coping with the pain inflicted by love. These are my self-discovered therapeutic remedies to refrain from imploding or exploding, or in extreme cases, both…
- Let your mouth speak for your heart
If talking to someone aids you to express your love, it will also serve you well to express your hurt. No matter how deranged this may sound, talking to yourself or an inanimate object is also remedial. But if you’re bent on speaking to a mortal in the flesh, select that person with as much care and caution you would reinforce while selecting your wedding gown. Never seek sympathy, rather, seek counsel, warmth and understanding.
- Let your eyes water and be your own comforter
Crying is a means of purging oneself of the debris of accumulated hurt. Doing it in solitude is most preferential to me because when I’m hurt, I feel like I am my own comforter and that my own heart understands the reason behind my tears better than anyone else would. Somewhere I read that “clouds burst when they can’t withhold their contents any longer, and so it is with us.”
- Allow time to be your doctor
Just like a physical wound requires time and treatment to heal, so does an emotional one. Never pick at a scar that has closed after much ado. But remember that time doesn’t relieve you of the weight you are bearing. It just accustoms you to carrying it.
Once Doctor Time has accomplished his job, you will be in the phase of accepting your altered state of emotional affairs. Never expect to be skyrocketed to Planet Euphoria in no time. Recovering from the sting of heartbreak is equable with recovering from a malady. Remember that your heart might still be fragile and vulnerable, so do not dive headfirst (or heart-first without using your head) into the pool of pleasure because you aren’t going to know whether it will suck you in and spit you out in a mortifying condition or cause you to hit the solid bottom. Accept what has been and hope in what is yet to be.
Never let the past remind you that you were weak and broken. Rather, let it be a reminder that you fought that interior battle and have emerged triumphantly. The past is irreversible and unchangeable, so leave it be. Let the past follow you, but let the present live in you as you live in it, and let the future lead you. Move ahead and move on. Hurt can last only as long as you allow it to.