The Embers of Rage
Reference of Audio: Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act 2: Scene (Moderato)— Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
It had to cease.
But once I grasped what it all meant, all I felt was hate and anger; this was unjustifiable. I pleaded for mercy and for a chance to redeem the sins I had committed. I stabbed myself a hundred thousand times just to feel something; the pain was numbing me.
Every single moment spent contemplating all the possibilities in the endless jar of fear I had. You, despite all the circumstances, committed the one thing I stated was my breaking point; a principle held to my understanding. Yet, I was willing to bend my mind to your will, like a slave to its master.
Left to rot, cry, and swallow my pride for a fortnight. All the while, you took pleasure in the thing that you treasure the most. Not a shred of consideration you’ve given to me, about what I felt, how I felt, about what I did for all those endless hours of efforts; gone, put to waste. I was battling my inner monologue to save myself or to drown in all the bitterness that occurred.
When I heard what I heard, all I felt was an inferno. How could you? I was at peace — now my head felt rumbling back into this warfare. You gave it all away, for the sake of some misguided touch, supported by some negative speech about how it will never work out.
I could hardly stand because, for some hours, I thought it was time for me to accept some puzzles are just not meant to fit together. It didn’t, but you made it happen. The truth is even more scarce than what you told me; you were only scratching the surface of what had happened. I was oblivious to it because I chose to trust your judgment.
I thought my mind had deceived me, but it didn’t. It was only logical for me to understand that there was something bigger at play. I’d choke myself to death if it meant I could bludgeon myself before the belief that I compromised for this.
You spat on my face, again and again and again. It felt like the world was watching me being torn apart by wolves. I was dying to even get your attention, while you’re too busy fiddling with fingers in a matter that you are not even sure what they’re made of.
But holding on to this fit of rage, as I understand it, was blinding. I believe I read it somewhere, a proverb of some kind, ‘In anger, you hurt yourself deeper than you could imagine.’
I imagine cruel things — Oh, I did. Believe me, If I could set this trail ablaze before any spark of the unanswered question was revealed to me, I would’ve. To me, this meant that there was never truly a place to return to. You hung me loose, despite what you told me.
I planned out everything in the hope that we could renew something; the everlasting companionship. You threw it all away for some creature picked up from the base water of some horrifying dark pit, and you gave it something you should’ve given to me a long time ago.
But as I understand it, ‘To live and let die.’
We gave breath to the bond; yet you gave up on something that could’ve been greater than the both of us. I wasn’t willing to let it pass, I persist initially, until I realized that it would never be the same anymore.
In the end, despite everything you did, I was still able to find the passion and heart to forgive you. Not because you deserve it — but because it was the right thing to do.
So go on, I am no longer your captive; sail away, ye old cruise ship. For your planks and fences are torn from the damage you’ve done to your own. You are nothing but a graveyard of memories. Stored away, sealed, and shut tight.
14:40–14th of December 2023
