The Brilliant Tragedy that is Love

Foreword: Wrote this ~2 months ago, I just dislike repeated postings about romance, helplessness, stagnancy, despair. There’s a whole world out there, and I may migrate to another site soon and leave this as a good memory of the passing otaku Aleris. Huge thanks to the readers that have always supported me.

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Maybe it’s just an epic tragedy, the cyclical nature of love that consumes one, in ceaseless waves of torment and torture. It never ends, and I wonder if all of this is a waste of time, a misguided directing of energy unto a self-made prison, to achieve the ideal love that society constructs and naturalizes as the pinnacle of life and happiness. Still — I feel that this is absolutely brilliant, a laughable and laudable journey that has brought us past the rough seas, past the sirens and the Kraken, into calm, still waters. Isn’t it funny how there never is stability even in lull periods? Irony strikes hard just as we pledge to straighten things out. Beneath the calm waters is a shit ton of garbage, and the tiny currents that start a whirlpool of more disaster and confusion. Round and round, this cyclical and unending love goes. Suppression, tired love, hope, despair, promise, dread; sprinkle all of these to brew the story of our very own romance. 

I wish I could turn back time. Wishes are futile, I know.

No longer am I the same passionate and eager-eyed girl, slave to her young and foolish dreams of believing that love was everything. I have changed irrevocably, and the fucking tragedy is how this role reversal has overtaken us, making one of us always the one who loves more and the one who suffers. The truth is that you are everything I would have wanted a year ago — you are beautiful, hopelessly romantic, and helplessly in love. I have my doubts as to the tenability and sustainability of such fragile feelings, but right now they engulf me so warmly such that I do not feel deserving of it. It slipped – you – as my priority and the one I looked forward to a future with. Fear and uncertainty taint my thoughts as I recognize how unfair this unbalanced situation is, and what’s more: can I live and love like this? Is waiting it out and developing, recovering feelings the way to go, or are we inevitably waiting for the final straw that breaks the camel’s back?

I truly love you. How can I not, after understanding the person you truly are, after the countless tears we shed while we aimlessly attempted over and over again to navigate this problematic maze that has no true end? There’s not even a breakdown any more, just a lasting haze that leaves a lasting, small sadness. Clear cut lines do not exist, and we will never know whether trying harder would lead to a great, beautiful outcome, or if we would grow better, apart. Inertia, says my friend, is what keeps this cycle going. Regrets and opportunity cost exist at every moment.

I’ll let the inevitable tide of time wash over me. Let it wash away the doubts, the hatred, the sorrow, and eventually something will change. I am no longer an active agent, and perhaps that is okay. Have you heard of Ouroboros; creation out of destruction, an infinite loop of our histories and miseries and joys and happiness?  Let us continue trying, wrapped up and entangled as we may be in our intertwined fate. I love you so much, you are so precious. Maybe, this is all we know. Thanks Chainsmokers.

Into the abyss we go; into this cyclical mess we march.

(How fucking stupid can one be,

to live with ideals with your heads in the clouds;

While stumbling over every single thing —

Around, in the cold, hard ground?)

This voice of mine

Cries out, but

That’s all,

A howl into the night –

And then, silence.

 

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