Foolish

What is it about hurting…that we’re always looking for it? We’re so afraid of it yet we’re always searching for more ways to experience it. “Don’t do that, you’ll get hurt”, “it’s not convenient…you’ll get hurt”, “he’s no good, he’ll only hurt you”. Next thing you know, you’re running towards the wall that’s going to smash your emotions instantly and won’t regret it. Until you’re there, crying under your blanket, soaking the pillow.

Going through every single memory of it, just so you can hurt a little more, a little longer. Until you can hurt so bad you become unable of feeling anymore. But before getting there, you reminisce. All of it. How it started, how it made you feel every instant, how it exploded inside you and sparked the tiniest cell in commotion. How it brought you to your knees and then elevated you.

The many 2 a.m.’s you spent enjoying it, screaming in excitement from the comfort of your room to the whole world. The laughs, the tears, the confusion. It all. The many times you tried to deny how good it felt, just so the impact wouldn’t be as bad. You failed. It ends.

And it’s a cycle…

Eventually you hurt. After pure bliss, you experience pain. Go through hell. Was it worth it? Absolutely. It gave you life, a temporary purpose.

Would you do it again? Fuck yes.

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