Life is not a fairytale I get it and neither does magic exists like it did in the childhood when Santa from nowhere got candies in socks or the tooth fairy converted a broken tooth to a chocolate to leave it under our pillow. Childhood was as simple as loving ice creams and chocolates, and adulthood seems as hard as treating yourself with a candy or a chocolate bar after one might have done a good job. Really, a person becomes incessantly alone in his years of life when one needs love the most. Even parents don’t seem to be enough.

Although as scandalous as it may seem, we keep running behind love. Is it really ‘love’ that we want? Or do we keep running from ourselves, our inside dark version that we keep masking from the world because of the fear of being a misfit? We tend to always rely on our versions that the world would want us to be, while forgetting what we really want. When we really need to take care of ourselves and protect our own ego, we satisfy the world by kicking our dark sides, afraid of our own past. No matter how much we give and with all our strength it never seems perfect.

Although as scandalous as it may seem to keep having a life while holding on to ourselves, we keep running behind love. It’s always a disaster that blows off in the middle of self-pampering and then what? There are volcanic eruptions and explosions of things inside. We almost forget there’s a world inside of us that we need to protect and take care of despite of the outer world kicking us over and over. No matter how much we try to love, care and accept our surroundings, they never seem to work perfectly. Then who do we rely on? And who do we hold on to? Everyone needs one person, that one person – may it be a friend, lover, partner or someone who values us over something, believes in us for who we are. This person becomes our strength and weakness at the same time. And when one doesn’t have their fire brigade, what do they do with the fire burning inside them? As complex as it may seem, it becomes a mess between light and dark, black and white, dead yet so alive. That’s where we allow our heart to get manipulated by someone or something that has happened. The disaster keeps us reminding of how hurt we are and how each piece is lying broken on the ground. Is it about that particular person that we keep missing or is it the whole fire alarm that keeps our head blowing. 

And does it work out? No..! Obviously not. And then we say LIFE HAPPENED. 

We crave badly for love and we find no one around and the vulnerability reaches at the point from where even the voice cannot echo. We feel too ashamed to ask for love and to admit the hurt. In everything it’s not them who are at fault, it’s us who do not want to be accepted in our own vulnerability.

We play pretend. We end up saying that these experiences are mere lessons filled with these obnoxious endings and a path that eventually tends to make us who we are. But are we really happy to change? Change is indefinite and hard but is it worth it. We fall and trip on the path facing the reality wishing it to be better. A little more magical, like the butterflies in the stomach that love once gave us. Life has to be the combination of the good and the bad, but some things actually reach to the point from where they can’t be brought back. It’s called pain. And for every person, no matter how hard it may get but letting go is the only choice we are left with, because holding on would do injustice to self.

Why think about ourselves when it comes to pain? Why do the band aid after the wound and then why live with that brokenness when the damage could have be prevented by a simple thing, as simple and pure as loving our own skin, body and thoughts just before the world defines them? Before the world despises our fidelity, it will always fail to acknowledge our scars. Did the world ever acknowledge us for who we are, even without the scars? It’s because we as humans always tend to hide behind our wounds and the oozing bloodshed by painting it. What’s right and wrong in all this? Who’s to be blamed? And will blaming help? No..! It won’t. Pointing out others as well as carrying the guilt inside will make it worse. Then what? A person can’t just start loving himself even before healing.

It’s not simply about quoting it in long passages and words or even getting a therapy. Maybe it’s about finding a place, that place where we fit in, a place in between which partially belongs to us and a little part to the world that we live in. It may seem like being stuck in the labyrinth of existence from where the Sea seems to belong to neither us nor the skies, but the in between winds and the colors of the skies are our only abstract feelings that we can own. This is the place where we can love and heal ourselves and preserve our heart. It’s also more like the partially dried chrysanthemums in vase, defying the norms of beauty yet giving the antique look while accentuating its white color to yellowish hue. It’s the just perfect fit in between the two transparent sheets besides a photograph of an old couple quoted with hopeless romantic love poems that still reflects its freshness through that 4x5’’ frame. What would it signify then? Existence and worthiness! It matters and that’s the perfection and honesty that anyone can live with. No matter what kind of person you may be, but it does matter to be faithful, lovable and respectful to your own self. It’s having the courage to stay broken at the end of the day and being proud of it. That’s the place everyone deserves to be in, their own skin. “To define is to limit” so, why define, when one can be limitless? Limitless for who they are or who they might be in near future, so one needs to honor their place no matter how judgmental it may seem for the world. Own yourself with boldness and strength and the world will own you no matter what. 

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