Life's perspective

To someone who will probably never read this but it made me feel better to write it down anyway:

I guess I'm becoming more jaded and cynical. Just like you wanted me to.

A million memories ago, there was you and then there was I. You came and picked me up and I had no idea where we were going. All I had on me were the clothes that I was wearing and a small bag with my phone, money and ID inside. You held on to my bag while I visited the washroom. When I came back, you looked at me with and asked “Do you realize that if I were to get up and leave, you’d be here all alone? You don’t know where you are, you don’t have money and you have no one to turn to. Then what are you going to do?” I didn’t understand so I asked you “Why would you want to do that?”. Then you gave me a little speech about trust. You told me never to trust someone so much, never to think with such naiveté. Never assume that everyone is good.

Until today, I have never understood what you told me. The things you said, they didn’t make sense. Why shouldn’t I trust a person with all my heart? Why shouldn’t I believe in the good of every person, that everyone is beautiful and that life is like a beautiful blue sky with fluffy white clouds and never-ending rainbows? Why shouldn’t I see that life is like a beautifully constructed melody, with clearly expressed intonations and love infused wordings?

I know now that I was stupid.

Actually the word stupid doesn’t even begin to define what I was. I look back and I realize that I was the walking, talking epitome of incompetence. The good in every person? Everyone is beautiful? Life is a like a clear blue sky with fluffy clouds and rainbows? A beautiful melody?! I scoff at its simplicity. I mock its obtuseness. I palm my forehead and ask myself how I even came up with such foolish perceptions. I was an imbecile, a congenital idiot. Oh, how I made me laugh.

And I am not that anymore.

It’s like I’ve grown up. My thinking has changed. I see now what you mean. Life? Simple and beautiful? The good in others?

*scoff*

There is no such thing.

Let me tell you what I’ve learnt. Life is a pebbled path and sometimes, there are shards of broken glass between these pebbles and you cut the soles of your feet on them. The cuts don’t heal because you need to continue walking and there are more pebbles and more shards of glass waiting to cut and bruise you. Just when you thought you’ve gotten used to the pain, life throws a rock your way and crushes your toes. You can choose to stop walking but then if you do, then how can you see what’s at the end of the road? The only means of protection is to wear shoes.

Now, SHOES, hypothetically means that we have to harden our hearts and souls and regard everything and everyone with thinly veiled distrust.

I say this now because I'm actually starting to believe it is true. Life isn’t as beautiful as I thought it was. Life isn't always coming-up roses and it hurls shit in your path whenever it can. The people you meet. Do you actually think that they give a rat’s ass about you? That they sincerely care about your feelings, your thoughts and emotions? It’s a selfish world and it’s filled with self-centered narcissistic people. People who take advantage of others to pave a better road for themselves. People who take your love and affection for granted. Wear your heart on your sleeve and risk getting it broken. What’s worse, it’s normally returned to you in a more dire state. It would be more than broken. It would be smashed to smithereens and crushed to powder to be tossed into the air. So that you can never get it back and even if you do, it’s impossible to be pieced together again.

So, in general, there are two types of people:

The time-serving opportunist and the clueless naiveté.

Which would you rather be?

I’m a reformed naiveté working my way to become a callous sardonic.

And I believe I owe every single ounce of my determination to become one to you. You taught me all you know. You’ve made me into an impassive monster, one that closely resembles you. I don’t know whether to thank you or hate you for it.

Because there was a time, when I thought I loved you. Maybe I still do. Because this little part of me still believes that love, any love, never dies. But then, it’s just love. I’d rather love myself because then, I cannot, and I will not, get hurt again.

So here I am, and I proudly present to you your creation. Your sweat and tears. Your monster. Call me whatever you want. You think it anyway. And I believe I learnt it all from you.