I lie in bed, ready to sleep, tired, and my thoughts slowly turn into images. I’m thinking about the last rejection, about the one who caused one of the biggest shifts in my thinking. She doesn’t even realize what a single unguarded gesture can do, what kind of chaos it can unleash. She forgot it minutes after it happened. She wasn’t the first—just one in a series. I hope the last.
I feel empty, gnawed out, destroyed from within. Each one took a bite, each one tore something away and left behind a hollow, bloody wound that was never treated. On the outside I seem like someone else, on the inside I’m hollow—yet still able to stand like a wall and protect those I love, feeding them with pieces of silence that remain in me, so they can survive until it passes.
Is this your goal? A planned destruction of emotion, driving us into despair just so we can learn to stand like walls? Because even the arrows of the world hurt less than the destruction you’ve caused. Because we believe that in the end, there will be peace. A peace where pain fades, the light goes out, and everything is taken over by silence… but this is not how I imagined it. I believed in peace held in an embrace, in light, and in children’s laughter. But life reshapes our desires, and we ourselves begin to long for the light to go out.
That light will go out one day. And we will enter paradise. But unlike what we’re taught, we’ll find paradise here—on earth. In places we’ve never looked before, through the glasses they put on us at birth.