Rant. Or sentiments. Go type into words the feelings I am not even sure how to properly express. *sighs* *laughs out loud* *hashtag story of my life*
I could keep on talking to myself, talking to every people I see, talking about every issue I would hear about – I’ve changed. Years ago, I used to keep silent for hours whenever I feel frustrated; but I realize as time passed by, I am no longer that vulnerable girl who could just bear all her emotions without speaking herself out.
Since birth, I never had a love life. What keeps me inspired each time I need to get out of bed and be productive is the thought that I am given the opportunity to study. Yes, you read this right: Academics. Perhaps I am not that “grade conscious” type of student, I make sure that I’d be able to catch up everything that has something to do about schooling. I try my best to be a responsible, hardworking, motivated student. I have this strong drive to push myself to the limits because I know that if I study well, I could pay back the hardships of all the people who offer their sacrifices so I might be able to finish a degree and reach for my dreams.
Sleepless nights, restless days, hell weeks, haggard months, hardcore semester – college is, indeed, a pressure cooker! Who would have thought that a little girl who barely talked could take a Communication course at a country’s premiere university? Who would have thought that she might take the risk of failing so she could find out if she fits in? Who would have thought that she could go far away from home for consecutive months to study in an old, cold city? Who would have thought that she has to be me? Someone, please explain.
No point of reasoning may actually compensate for the numbness I feel at this moment. It’s that unfathomable expression of amalgamating emotions of “nothingness” and “the-whole-universe-combined kind of mood” both at once. Unbearable.
What am I actually ranting for? Unexpected defeats. These are the moments when it just feels like the world is slapping my face that’s already sore due to weeks of inconvenience. There seems to be no break from all the pain I’ve gained from working too hard – just heartbreaks. Sadly, there are heartbreaks. I experience heartbreaks from the things I am not even in a relationship with… but those things that I am in full commitment with. I fail even though I reviewed the notes. I fail even though I practiced the report. I fail even though I exerted my effort to present, to submit a requirement. There will be times, unavoidable ones, when my best isn’t even good enough for others.
Like a cycle, repeating itself, rolling over my almost-dead body. My almost-paralyzed brain. My almost-gone being. It would be easier if I cry this out and when it’s finished, the hurting is gone. But no. I was wronged. I discovered, in that isolated place where I am ready to give myself up, I couldn’t even cry. Not a single drop of tear is falling, as if my eyes are about to sweat at the top of a mountain full of snows that keep me cold all throughout.
Shall I pity myself for having that need to forcibly cry yet tears-not-found? – suggested by the robotic nature I’ve built up inside. I know myself. I couldn’t be numb but a routine of absorbing all the hurtful remarks has been mastered. I don’t want to call it unfair. I still hold on to that belief which promises me… I. could. be. better. than. this. The wind blows so roughly it messes up my hair. I feel teased at the mess summoning up my life. Still, I hold on to that belief which promises me… I would fix this soon if I started pulling myself together.
Are there any choices left? Aside from standing up each time I got myself knocked down. Aside from putting up a smile on my face behind each weary frown. Aside from telling “It’s fine” beyond mistakes. I don’t lie. I’m just doing a favor to the world. I’m just giving out what I lack, what I wasn’t able to receive… – and this is definitely to be interested with every story that I may encounter. It is to show appreciation to all the adventures I have the chance to explore.
So what remains to cry for? Tears no more.
At the end of the day, is the start of the night sky that is full of stars. I am on the process of training myself to indulge embracing such sense of strength… a sense of endurance from all the hatred I feel for myself. I am not sorry.
Dear, you are not sorry so don’t hide away from the transcending years. You, too, will soon run out of tears.