The Question of Strength.

I never really thought that there would ever be a time when the thing I'm most ashamed of in my life is my love for someone. But now here we are and here I am; too afraid to tell anyone I've fallen in love. There would've been no point in talking about it anyway. But that still doesn't detract from the point that the reason I don't talk about it to anyone is because I'm too ashamed of it. 

I know I wasn't supposed to. And from the start I knew I would. And I decided to do it anyway. But I never was not stupid when it comes to these things. The hopeless romantic in me always hopes that things will work out and how can it if I never try? And if I never take the risk? I can't say I regret it. I made the only decision I could have back then. And maybe life's emotional ravages have left me a wreck, but I can't help thinking that it's for a purpose. 

I was naive and I was golden. And it's easy to be nice when you're happy and when you're surrounded by glow, people are attracted to you in a way and that makes you happier, feel more in place. And the cycle begins upwards and upwards. But the same can be said for the downward cycle. I might've used to be golden. But now I'm not anymore. I'm fighting for scraps beside so many vermin by the sides of a road called "emotions" and "love". It is known also by many other names like "acceptance" and "belonging" and many more. 

I don't know when I started to lose sight of who I am; or who I thought I was. All I know is that it happened sometime along the way and it just slipped quietly away, not announcing its intentions to go and never come back. And thus a child experiences its first instances of abandonment. Maybe it's like shedding the old skin and shrugging into the new. And then having a user manual argument over how to makes sense of the new gadget. My new skin has come with many new heartbreaks and where my old one was golden, the new seems more a slick shade of black. Like oil. But then again, oil is also known as liquid gold. So maybe there is hope for me yet. 

I now understand many things I never even know I didn't know. I know why she did that. I know what she felt now. And I know what I felt then. And what I feel now. And that's how I know what she might've been going through. It's a sad truth to bear and it's a bitter pill to swallow. For her then and for me now. I know now also many other things I have taken forgranted and sworn off in my stance borne out of ignorance and a lack of understanding. And a part of me is ashamed that I ever did judge. That I ever did form those opinions I am now seemingly forced to swallow in my new understanding. And another part of me feels fear. For I understand that as people we do judge. And no one is exempt. For it would be many bitter experiences indeed if I were to be forced to learn that hard way why my opinions were ignorant and needed to change. Another part of me wonders why I need to know even when many go through their lives never needing to learn they were ever wrong. And I have learned much where love and pain comes into the picture. Somewhere along the road I have come to see love now as not the Disney version I always thought existed and would be the case for me. I know now that love is acceptance and swallowing the bitter pill many many times in less than ideal situations. It is discovering just how far you are willing to go for a person while forsaking yourself in the process. It is learning just how much you want something and how you can never know where the line will be drawn until you come to that line. I have forsaken all my principles and done all that I thought I never would do in the name of love. I have thrown myself so far from the safe zone from which I vowed to court love from and now have been embittered by the storms that sweep the desolate plains of where I stand from. Because though I may seem to have lost my compass, part of me knows I may have no intentions of ever going back anyway. I can't go back. I live here now. The shelter would be alien and it would be a lie. I've crossed a line and now I belong here although I never thought I ever would and I hoped I never would. 

More than anything, it has been a journey of learning. And it never was a sweet journey. But maybe the nectar is to be extracted from somewhere I never expected and is not yet found. But I will find it I think. Sometimes I think that I am not strong. But sometimes I wonder if maybe I am strong. And definitely stronger than this. In less than conventional ways, maybe even not in the best way. But strength is strength. And it can be moulded into whatever shape or form the bearer may wish it to be.