This is the part when Born To Die: Paradise Edition is on, and you're in the mellowest yet you will not ever and not allowed to cry for the same reason again.
The most confusing part of my letting go definition is knowing that it's not actually letting go, but it is. Like it's not actually a relationship, but it is. Like I actually believe that it was warm water, but it actually is.
Here's the thing about disappointment and fears; you can experience a hundred disappointments if you trust people that easily, but yet again what is a relationship (any. Any relationship) that's not based on trust? You can fear a thousand things, even at once, but by then, will there still time to live? When you have been made disappointed for a lot of time, you'd expect the new to be different. Like a breath of fresh air in summer. You'd believe that, "Hey, it's not fair to treat them like the last ones. I mean, it's there for a frikkin lesson, not a reference." but then again, everything is a lesson and even though you looked back for things you should've changed and changed them in the present, sometimes it just got messy and it messed up everything. The thoughts you put, the expectation that's been growing, the hope that won't stop bouncing in and out in and out, up and down up and down. It's really tiring but you thought what you got is different and you're willing to be on your last leg, beaten until black and blue, wishing that it will somehow be worthy.
And it was. I mean, the whole ride. But the end it's just the same with the others. Disappointed? Yes. There's a saying that "A second chance doesn't always mean a happy ending. Sometimes it's just a chance to end things right this time around". I just wish there's no ending at all.
So after days of wallowing and losing my inner equilibrium, I just realised today that... Man, you don't need me any longer! You're a whole lot of fine without me and I just went back and thought... Was it the second chance to end things right? Did it really have to end? And after staring at you for a couple of minutes or so, I turned my head thirty degrees and there they are. The replacements. I know, I know. Being replaced hurts more. But... If it's what makes you better, replacing me because I'm uncool and dreary, then it is what it is. You know my bit, I know yours. And the saddest thing is... I will always be around when you're off doing what's cool and not dreary, that will never include me.
Excuse my shit-low self esteem but... Yeah. I'm shit-low self esteem.
Let's build a room and start filling it, shall we. Because that, is what Diva would do.
And oh! Those who can't cry is actually the weakest.