We don’t always get what we want or how we want it.
Everybody tells us to think positively, to keep the hopes and dreams alive. Whenever we encounter any failure, we are told that there is a reason behind every unfortunate event. A better way ahead. A better life to live. A bigger plan than what we’ve had for ourselves. All the more reasons to keep moving forward.
Rarely in these occasions that we have the sad, hard truth shoved down our face. We naturally do not want to accept defeat. We are born to be brave warriors who bring home the news of victorious battles. It is even a challenge to, at times, not be impervious to losses and compromises. Because we are never born to be the losing ones, we are never born to accept the duality and double sides of a struggle.
But what if hopes and dreams are, in reality, the deadliest weapon of Pandora’s Box?
There are sadness, grievance, inequality, unfairness, and cruelty everywhere we look. But all these things don’t matter. Hopes and dreams can keep us alive. We succumb to this lovely idea that we are destined to be alright, and everything is taken care of beautifully at the end of the day. We need not to worry.
I’d like to think that sometimes we have no other logical choice but to retreat and surrender. Sometimes it is just so.freaking.tiring to push through. And sometimes, it is best to acknowledge that yes, I am a failure. I am not as smart as I previously thought I was. That I am a grieving soul that need not to be pitied, and I am forever alone in my own journey of self-sacrificing. This is me, bare and vulnerable and acknowledging my loss, my heartache, my inability to cope with the vengeance that life offers, disguised as a deadly poison in a sparkling red crystal.
Sometimes it is best to understand that love, hopes, and dreams cannot hold a candle to overshadow pain.
It is indeed a pathetic and otherworldly idea. But as a human being, we cannot always live in this halo of positivity. We cannot fool ourselves into thinking that these evils can just be swept under the rug. Negativity is there to keep us grounded, to keep our expectations properly managed, and to show us that yes, this world is not at all kind and compassionate. In a sense, it helps us create sound decisions that are not affected by the promises of fake hopes.
In the end, one will always end up believing. No matter how many times their hearts had been broken, no matter how little of its pieces still left after being menacingly bruised, no matter how each scar irks with endless savagery, no matter how many lonely nights they have spent with tears of grievance.
One will always end up believing, that someday, this will be worth it all. That there will be no more sad story, but likewise no cotton candy of happy endings.
And that is where the story serves its justifications right.