It refuses to settle down

this turmoil within.

It refuses to show up

this conflict that won’t let me rest.

Can we sit and talk about this?

I’ll tell you everything from scratch, clear my head up and move on

Move on yet again.

Well no, let’s not sit and talk about this.

What am I going to tell you?

That I was sure?

Again?

Will I tell you about how good it all seemed in such a short span?

Again?

Or should I first tell you about how there is nothing left anymore?

Again.

If I tell you that, I will also have to tell you about how I am not falling apart.

Not yet.

I know this isn’t forever. The show does go on.

But do you know how it gets tiring after a point?

so tiring that even the temptation of a happy ending does not push you take that first step.

And you begin to wonder if that final stop is really worth the journey.

Yes, it is.

Even those journeys that don’t have clear destinations matter.

Whatever happened to the importance of the means and not just the end?

Sometimes this is a good consolation for the brain.

And it sure is a brilliant strategy for those who don’t make it

Makes you believe it wasn’t a complete loss.

At least for a while it does.

Before you begin to question yourself.

And then all the what-ifs make their presence felt.

And the mind conjures all the alternate realities that are anything but better than what you have in your hands now.

So maybe we can sit and talk about all this.

Because talking about anything else seems futile

Talking about how easily I begin to dream

or about how lonely it gets at times

or maybe about the frustration of starting over each time

Aren’t all these discussions futile?

That is what is going to happen anyway.

So let us not sit together. Let us not talk.

I am done with the talking.

I am done with being vulnerable.

But I am not sure if I have used up all that hopeless hope yet!

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