I used to believe that love was the greatest thing in the world.
I used to believe that I must therefore keep fighting against myself.
I used to believe in happy endings.
I wonder what happened to that guy. Somehow, somewhere along the way I lost him. I think he is still in me somewhere, buried deep inside, because sometimes when I strain myself I think I can hear him whispering at me. Whispering at me to keep fighting, to never give up. But it is a faint whisper, barely audible at all. Sometimes I try to remember what he said to me and I repeat those words to myself in my mind, trying to convince myself again in their meaning. But there is no real conviction. It is a lie, a façade, but I cannot fool myself. I can pretend however I want, but I do not believe in their meaning anymore.
But what do I believe then? Well, I would answer, I believe I am incapable of love. There, I have finally said it. It is out in the open at last. There can be no more denying it, no more obscuring the truth, no more pretending that everything is fine and dandy. I might have hinted at this before, I cannot truly recall, but this is the first time I have said this outright without sugarcoating it. This is what I truly believe. I believe the ability to love someone and to make someone feel loved and special, the capacity to show affection like a normal human being completely eludes me. Oh yes, I have made several attempts before, but asking me to do these things is like asking someone of my athleticism to throw down a 360 tomahawk dunk. The results would be exactly the same. Any attempts in both cases would be feeble and pitiful, destined for complete failure at the very outset. In such cases, perhaps it is better not to even try at all.
So no, I do not believe in happy endings anymore. In contrary to television and movies, happy endings just do not magically appear out of thin air. Instead, just like a bud needs fertile soil to blossom into a beautiful flower, budding feelings can only blossom into happy endings when the heart itself is a fertile ground. And just like a beautiful flower needs to be properly cultivated with the right amount of water and sunshine at the right moments, a happy ending needs to be properly cultivated with the right amount of caring and affection at the right moments. How can I realistically hope for a happy ending when my heart is so barren only the weeds of loneliness and sadness are able to thrive? How can I in good conscience dream of a happy ending when my soul is so devoid of any feelings of caring and affection that what remains behind is little more than an empty husk, a cold and heartless creature that should be shunned? Tell me, how can I ask someone else to have feelings for me when I myself am utterly incapable of reciprocating them?
Still, I used to believe that there was a chance that things could change. I used to believe that I could change and become a better person as long as I kept fighting against myself. I believe the rewards I will be able to reap in the end, if only for a mere second, will far outweigh the many years of effort I have put into achieving what I desire the most. But now I see the exact opposite is true. The more I fight against myself, the more I realize I will forever remain the same, and the more I am consumed by feelings of loneliness and sadness until it affects me in everything I do. Why should I keep on struggling against myself if everything will just remain the same? Why should I be in constant conflict with myself if all it brings me is despair and sorrow? Tell me, why should I keep fighting if I do not believe in fighting against myself anymore?
You might expect now that I am going to tell you that I do not believe any longer that love is the greatest thing in the world. Hah! If only that was true! If only I truly stopped believing in the splendid grandeur of love, in sentimentality, devotion, passion and everything that comes with love. If only I stopped believing in all of these things, life would have been so much simpler. I am convinced that I can be content about myself, perhaps even happy, if only I am able to relinquish this foolish obsession of mine.
So yes, I still believe in love despite everything, I believe in it more than anything in this world, and it is because of this belief that I have not given up entirely yet. But I am scared. There have been many, many moments in the past year when I have almost decided to give up. There have been many, many moments when I contemplated completely ignoring the one person I care so much about, and that would go against everything I value. The only thing keeping me sane is this guy… this guy who used to be me and who keeps whispering at me to keep fighting. He is the only one standing between me and despair. I said in the previous paragraph that I wished I could stop believing in love, but that’s not true. That is also a lie, a lie I tell myself in the hope that I would start believing in it, so I could pretend that the pain and loneliness I feel do not exist.
But now what? I am incapable of love, I keep saying to myself, and as long as I believe that things will never change for the better. I think the one thing I need to achieve first is to start believing in myself again. I need to believe that the capacity to love and show affection is there somewhere deep within me, locked away and waiting there until I am able to set it free. I need to believe that I am not a hopeless case after all. And perhaps it is time to admit I cannot do this alone. I have tried to do this all by myself but it is clearly not working. I’m not sure what to do yet, but I need to give this some serious thought.