This is not drama...
Why is it that the harder you try to fix something, the more you tend to damage it? My computer, for instance, whenever I try and tweak this sad, little unit, I end up making things worse, ruining the registry, adding unnecessary programs that bog down its memory, defrag a drive that can't be defragged because of lack of space. Why bother when, even if it was such an old and sad little thing, it was already working fine?
Or when you're cooking something simple... you want to try and make it more interesting... like adding a few more peppers to your adobo, switching bacon with ham in your carbonara, or putting ketchup on your fried eggs. Why ruin a good thing by adding unnecessary ingredients?
Or when you write a song. The first time you sit down and pen the lyrics, a melody already playing in your head, you strum it on your guitar and in that one pass from intro to verse to chorus to bridge, everything fits perfectly. When you start adding the frills, change the words a bit, or try and sing it better... something gets lost. Why impose structure on something that is inately beautiful?
This is not drama. This is remorse. This is regret. This is hurt.
I fell in love with someone who, to me, was perfect. Perfect because she had her imperfections, her flaws, her unique, unchangeable traits... all of which, put together made her glow. That was who she was, that was who she was meant to be. Beautiful. A diamond in the rough.
But the more you try and meld her, the more you try and ask her to change for you, to be more perfect for you... that's when the luster begins to fade. That's when the true beauty begins to wane.
She becomes sad, though she doesn't show you. She loses life in her step, in her day to day routine... she loses herself. Her soul diminishes because of someone else's tampering.
I am guilty of that tampering.
She wasn't meant to be this way, but I tried. I placed myself at her feet, and demanded she do the same. I needed her love, and she gave it, but in the process slowly lost herself.
What good is love then if it cannot balance compromise with understanding and forgiveness?
A love so frail and fragile stands no chance against so many forces pushing against it. And even if we tried, even if we fought so hard, tooth and nail, to strike that balance... the damage had already been done.
I tampered with something so beautiful and all it did was make it worse.
When it rains, it definitely pours. Because here, now, on the eve of the gloomiest day of this year, I lost her.
I walked in the rain. Through the barren, lifeless and unforgiving streets I walked. I found no solace or comfort in the shadows. And the cold beat down on my soul like I was forever tormented and haunted.
Tonight I have given up.
But only for tonight.
With the coming of the dawn comes the promise of a new day, a brighter day. Forever the optimist, I look to the dawn, and know it's all going to get better, even if the damage had already been done.
I cry bitter tears now, and wonder how I'll ever get through the cold, uncaring night.
But as sure as dawn will come, this sadness I know too shall pass.
I loved her too much, when I should have just loved her enough.
Forgive me... I pray to Our Lord that someday, the bitter memory of this night will pass, and I can move on with my life.
This is not drama. Just a little bit of a prayer, an expression of remorse, a hope for better things to come.
Good bye, my love.
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