Twist of Fate

I am a burning engine. I’d like to think of it that way; at least in some way, I find it poetically motivating.

I am this engine driving its gears and motors, compacting work after work after work. I’m buried in dreams and idealism, seeking something great, something beautiful.

For a while, I slowed down; why?

There’s this line from the television series Game of Thrones; “Love is the death of duty.” And believe me, duty died a little that day.

I fell in love. For a moment, everything changed. The engine came to a halt. I wanted to be happy, to be loved, and to have someone to share with. I realigned my mind to something better. And for her sake, I tried to be better — not that she asked of me but what I believed she deserved to have.

Make no mistake, I am imperfect; I have my faults, my weaknesses, and a great fear of being left behind. I overprotect things, I assume bad things are about to happen, and they do all the time. Every scenario occurs in my head, every possibility of error, of danger, I’ve prepared for them all. I made sure, whatever obstacles that we face, we will persevere. It was necessary.

For a while, everything was fine. And then, it wasn’t.

This is not something anyone could’ve thought of. There was a curveball in my relationship, and to be frankly honest, I have yet to know how to deal with it other than forgive and move on. Maybe that’s what I am; as naive as it may sound; I forgive and I love with a burning passion. It is true that I easily forgive, but no; I never forget. Like a bleeding stag, I refuse to trust to narrow my thirst in the same riverbank, fearing for the fangs to reach back onto me. I distrust love; I reject honesty.

It changed me.

I left all these useless ambiguities of pursuing pleasure, seeking satisfaction in great lust and gluttony to fulfill me.

I’d stare back at myself from a year ago, and he’d ask me the same question that is still currently running through my head, ‘why?’ ‘You’ve changed, haven’t you.’

And I wish I could tell him how wrong he was to think that I did, but I felt nonetheless; I was unwise to think the other way around. Something changed, and now I’m just a useless engine thriving for nothing more than the temporary relapses of these pleasures. I can stop, I should stop, it’s not like I couldn’t. I could, but what of the hurt, the pain, and the loneliness?

I did try to change; I read book — Art of War, written by Sun Tzu; a mental scroll to prepare me for warfare. Not a battle with any opponent, but a struggle within me. Astonishingly, I was ill-fated. I prepared for every circumstance again, but I failed.

“One often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” — another reference from Master Oogway, insightful, at the time — I have yet to understand it’s meaning.

I consider every possibility, every instance of defeat. But it led me straight to this fate. I am broken; I care less about what I have, focusing on more to sustain the thirst for my disease — a sickness in my tongue. To stop, is to strip me clean of my mistakes.

I am a terrible person; callous in someways, psychopathic in otherways, manipulative in expressing my emotions. It is horrible to have a mind like mine. In a debate of tongues; I will always lose in an argument; for the sake of acceptance and understanding. But in my spirit, I battered people psychologically to bend them down.

A shocking instance, I find it hard to believe how capable I was to be as cruel as I am. Cruelty does not take form in only an aggresive speech or an act of violance. It is the destruction of minds; the mind, spirit, and heart of others. I pursue these things with the tendency to surround and hurt.

Oh how darker this twist of fate have become. I wanted to stop, but not before I know the set of truths. I am willing to hurt people, unknowingly hurting myself in the process.

Dear me,
You should not fear too deep, before it gets to dark, I will light the way once again. This time the engine will spin way faster, and love will wither away.