Time is Worth

The world is not fair. It is a harsh and cruel place full of sadness, loneliness, and hate. The earth today is barren and war-torn. At every corner, every juncture, there is a broken heart writhing in a pain so unimaginable, it seems that killing its owner would be the only merciful thing to do. This is my world. Full of realizations meant to bring strength while being decimated by my confused inner demons fighting amongst themselves. Always at odds, the emotional and logical thought processes are constantly pulling and pushing, fighting and tearing, ripping and desecrating one against the other.

Never the victim. I've always thought of myself as stronger than so many others. And I am. But I have recently discovered a dirty, corroded hole in my so often used armor. It has been found and infiltrated by the very person it was built most strongly against. Only because he owns the gift is he able to see the blood-rusted gape, and only because he holds my heart is he able to know exactly where and how to twist the knife.

It hurts. To my core, the physical pain pales in comparison to the searing ache of the broken heart. Deep within my chest, it still beats, but it pounds painfully to keep me awake when I need sleep, quickly when I need to be calm, to slow when I need to move, and in its own unique and unpredictable pattern when I need a self-created sense of stability the most.

Is it worth it? Is it worth the upheaval of the known, the torture of the unknown, and the uncertainty I've always run away from? Only time will tell.