Tracks of my tears

Tracks of my Tears

Pain is inevitable, the more I hide it the more it hurts. I could have been a a heartless inhumane creature. Hearing, sensing and feeling nothing but emptiness, that was what I’ve longed for. Until then love had came across my way. I knew it was love: a real sense of attraction amidst all opposites, producing an inner sense of positive energy and a feeling that conquers all divinity and impossibilities. It happened to me… but I gave it to the wrong person. So what then? I was left haunted, shattered, broken and unnoticed.

I am about to reach my insanity point. I had cried tons of tears inside. Thought I couldn’t bear it, foolishness had taken its throne and I’m glad to recognize my own agony. Now taking it little by little would be the only option that is left for me and becoming a better person one step at a time is such a milestone for me. Until I looked back and had decided to follow the tracks of my tears. Painful as it may seem to be, loving the wrong one is a risk that can either be worth taking or worth breaking. Perhaps, what I have learned is that, loving someone, whether that person is the right one or the wrong one, is a SACRIFICE that I ought to endure. And as long as my heart is beating, I am capable of loving all over again.