When is "enough" enough? Where do you draw the line, set a limit, or establish a boundary to restrain the chaos of emotions and the mundanity of daily life?
One day you wake up, and everything around you feels unfamiliar, as if you don't belong there. You know you're lying in a bed, in a room, yet something deep within you senses that this place, this moment, doesn't belong to you. You start wondering why, but the answers elude you. Frustration kicks in, gnawing at you like a rabid dog, making you question everything, especially yourself. Are you to blame for letting your emotions infiltrate every corner of your heart and mind? When your feelings and passions run wild like horses, how do you rein them in and bring them under control? Does anyone know how to do that effectively? Certainly, there are situations where such an endeavor is possible, but what about the others? Those where passions turn into a tornado, making reality a horrible battle field and pushing you into a corner where rational and logical thinking have no place. That is not the sweetest place to be, is it?
"So what are your plans for today?" someone asks. Your mind starts retrieving memories and feelings from the cabinet where you had stored them away. And then it hits you: how do I make sense of it all? Haven't I done it all? I tried. Would it make any difference if I just stayed here and forgot about everything? I tried. I chased my feelings all around, glued together the scattered pieces of my heart along the way, and yet... I tried. Yet, it wasn't enough, I suppose. So, who has the answers? Faith? I don't know, because even having it doesn't guarantee a clear picture of how things are. So my plans for today? I don't know. Probably I'll spend my time questioning my decisions and my purpose in life, or I will just try to wrap my head around the world I live in.
I remember seeing you that afternoon, wearing that white short-sleeved shirt that I liked so much because you looked so handsome in it. I was there; you just didn't see me. The confusion of my feelings and our relationship busted everything between us. That afternoon was a reminder. Or that evening at the bus stop. You just turned up. I felt electricity going through my body; I just wanted to hug you, embrace you. Your eyes told me how much you loved me and cared about me, but I couldn't bring myself to give in, to surrender in that precise moment when time opened a small window for us to reconcile who we were and what we meant to each other. Time was allowing us to rescue ourselves from the pit we were in. But my constant questioning had already placed a wall in front of that window before it closed. I'm sorry. Very.
The bottom line is that trying to understand what doesn't make sense is futile. Despite your efforts to make heads or tails of it, despite all the tears shed, mood swings, and attempts to piece yourself back together, it simply doesn't make sense anymore. The reality you had imagined is a far cry from the place you currently occupy in time and space. In that imagined reality, everything made sense, was colorful and happy, and was understandable and easy. But the place we are... well, it isn't quite so.
So, when is "enough" enough?
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