Superhuman.

A war is coming. A battle is being fought and try as I may, luck will always put me on the losing end. An emotional conflict is being waged within me. I don't have the courage to show those around me how I feel. So I suffer in silence, hoping that my demons will have mercy and go away and that the balance of things will be restored. Even typing this out doesn't really give me any sense of relief, it doesn't do justice of the turmoil that is inside me.

How is it that some people have it so easy? Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect grades, perfect face, perfect family, perfect everything. Well, at face value at least. Why aren't I entitled to the same privileges? Why is it that I have to suffer to get what I want, and in the end only to realize that it has been loaned to me temporarily and will be yanked away from my hands in a heartbeat. 

It's not fair. But that's life, people will tell me. When something bad happens, they'd say have patience. HOW ABOUT NO? I don't fucking want to be patient. I want to be happy. For fucking once in my life, I want things to be easy and predictable. I want stability and peace. I want to be sure. I want what the bloody hell that I want. 

This seems like the most childish thing ever, but my fears are real. They won't let me be. And they are tearing me apart and squeezing and twisting my insides. My chest is like the ocean in the middle of a storm, all waves and thunder and rage and chaos. 

This could be a small test for all I know, or this could be the end. I can't tell, I cannot read the future. It's frustrating. I wish people were more honest about things; about how they feel, what they like and what they hate. Why is it so hard? At least things would be resolved quickly. All this waiting and guessing is grueling to say the least and then you find out that all the anxiety was for nothing. 

I may seem like the type of person whom has her shit put together, but I'm more human than what most people dare to imagine. I guess that's the major downfall of having that image of being strong, because when you're at your lowest, no one will be able to comprehend that you need a shoulder to cry on or a nice long hug, or a reassuring rub on the back. Everyone will be all big words and false bravado when all you want to do is have good cry. 

They will feed you ideals when all you want is for your situation to be fixed and your heart to be mended. 

I am too ashamed of myself. For many people, this is a petty thing. But the heart is tender and fragile. It has its desires and hopes, its fears and wishes. 

I have my own dreams that I want to see through and fulfill. I wishes that nothing and nobody will take that away from me. I want to make my own mistakes and take satisfaction from the lessons learned. Is that too much to ask? It is my life after all.

Just last week I was wondering to myself, what is it like to cry?, having had my eyes dry in quite a long time and quite forgotten how it feels like to let my emotions run raw. For too long I've been in that precautionary state, a sort of numbness in which the sadness just simmers below the surface and makes you wonder if you've forgotten how to feel or whether you're human at all. I have quite forgotten how to be happy in a wholesome way. To be happy without the poisonous vine of fear threatening to coil around my little bubble of happiness. 

That fear is evil. Always threatening to snatch away whatever beacon of light I hold so carefully in between my fingers. 

Whenever I share my good news with others, friends or family, their reaction is always, are you sure? 

Maybe it's just you.

Are you really sure? 

Don't be too happy. 

Be careful. 

How is one supposed to live like this? They tell you to live life, but tell you to be suspicious of any golden light that shines on your path. They tell you to be better, but when you tell them you want to chase your dreams, they tell you you're ungrateful of what you have.

It's better to not live at all, if that's the case. Don't they see that the reason you want to leave is because of all the unnecessary baggage that you've been carrying around, that you want a fresh start, that you're taking a risk even though the future is uncertain? True, the grass my not be any greener on the other side, but at least you took a leap of faith. Whatever happens, happens.

Eventually you learn to control your tongue, your enthusiasm. You learn to put on a facade and try your best to make it look real. You lose yourself. You sacrifice your ideals because of other people's reality. And that is the tragedy of life.

That is my tragedy. 

All I want is to show someone whom I can trust that I too, am a human. That I too, have fears. That I too, become scared. That I too, drown in reality. That I too, am dysfunctional. That I too, am not invincible.

All I want is a long hug and a few kind words. Hug me until my pain goes away, hug me until I am whole again. Tell me that everything will be okay. Listen. And tell that my dreams are not just illusions, that they have every chance of coming true. Hug me and tell me everything will be okay. Hug me and tell me that none of my dreams are preposterous, none of them. Tell me that I should never give up on my dreams and that I should keep chasing them even when I stand alone. Hug me and tell me that everything will be okay, that everything will turn out as I imagined. 

Hug me a long warm hug.