It was not so much about the hints and clues which led me into believing that it would eventually fail. It was the gut feeling I had, that made me convicted it for being something which could never materialize into what I had always dreamed of. Nothing could have ever blossomed out of such infertile soil of hopes and wishes that were never meant to come true from the onset.
Perhaps, it would have been more bearable to have some sort of solid assurance, sufficient enough to enable me to believe, that this is just a phase, when the sun will shine after the storm, and the rainbow will reveal itself thereafter, and when all fogs of worries and uncertainties will finally lay down to rest, leaving sheer bliss as the aftermath. Such wishful thinking merely entices the most agonizing of comfort.
Perhaps it could have been different if I did not have such courage to rebel against my instinct. Damnation upon me for trying to lie my way through denial. I knew how it was going to end but deep within me nests the believe that perhaps I could have changed it for once. I was foolish but I was merely being true to myself, the only person of which I am fully accountable and answerable to. I did not regret it even if it landed me in dirt of shame and hurt.
It should have been less painful, less hurtful. I had forewarned myself of the risks and I was convinced that I would go through this without even the slightest of pain, if not the minimum . Yet of the things that should have been, they remain should. They never were nor are.
All this should have led me into shying away from even thinking of attempting yet another adventure. But my instinct insists upon me to embrace all possibility and uncertainty because I have the strength to endure and learn. I can afford to feel hurt because I know that I will always move on. Don't all people do? I can't run away from wanting to feel it, to inhale and exhale it and to enjoy it even if it was meant to be momentary.
It could, should and would never be love because I wanted it. It could, should and would never be love because I did not want it badly enough. It was me all along who restrained the possibilities of such.
