Gardens of thorns without roses.

Prologue

           

I kept waiting for the other parts of me to die too. so everything would be in balance. Or maybe I kept waiting for that one part to resurrect and somehow live, so everything would be in balance. Life is about balance; balance between happiness and sadness. Where there is balance peace is found. My father once told me that was exactly and precisely why I would never find peace.                                                 However after that, hope was still alive, for It to resurrect or for them to die. Not really sure where I found this amount of hope. I guess I luckily found It on my way to darkness. Once I stumbled over It and It played with these feelings and thoughts of mine so carefully and delicately that I never allowed myself to let go of It. Hope used to be my best friend but she betrayed me so many times, I now question her loyalty. She's my greatest enemy and dearest ally at the same time. I let her in, convincing myself she was going to be the painkiller, the antidote to my problems. She turned her back on me and became the poison like she became not long ago. First she learned me how to dream, then how to believe and finally how to love without fearing anything or anybody. Just when happiness was so close, she disappeared in the wind without a trace like my cigarettes always do. I begged her to stay and tell me everything was going to be okay. She left instead and let my dreams fade away. After leaving me in such a bad state, she today came back to play with my feelings, telling me I will find someone else to love, telling me there is no point in grieving over my wife and trying to brainwash me by talking about "moving on". Guess what? I did not even let her in this time, I closed the door to my heart and mind and threw the keys away. Happiness is a fata morgana in my life and I've accepted that. The closer I come, the more realistic my happiness seems to be. The problem comes when I try to touch it; It all turns out to be a lie. Every single time that even a spark of hope has touched me, It felt so nice that I forgot to look at what she did in the past. All those times I acted stupid and gave in to what she wanted; to kill me over and over again. I will not let this happen again, I will survive without this false hope and stab her till she dies. So here I am; stuck somewhere between what I wish and what I know. I'm trying to break free from this vicious circle of sadness and pain. But during nights like these, nothing seems to matter. I realize that maybe I don't have to break free. Maybe this is meant to be. The only option –since I've stabbed my painkiller to death- left is to hide in the corner of this melancholic empty room of mine. Let me wait patiently for the day fate will come by and tell me happiness is coming my way.