The Statistical Reality of Midnight Out-pours: Case 10/28/15 | 1AM

How hard is it really to say hello to someone as you?

It’s hard as the rain falling after summer. As hard as a diamond pressed within layers of earth for centuries. Hard as metal forged by the greatest smiths. And hard as the truth that this is all reality.

If I break down right now, you wouldn’t be here to witness it. You’ll probably be asleep, or doing school works, or surfing the net, or doing nothing but contemplate over things that involve everything but me. You wouldn’t know that someone is dying to hold you for a moment just to feel safe and secured and loved. You wouldn’t know that I’m pressing my heart back to my chest every time I talk about you because I want to burst out like a grenade, but I won’t because I’ll only shoot unnecessary utterances like complaints about chest pains and unfortunate life and unfair fate and three-times-in-a-row heart breaks.

But you wouldn’t know of it because you’re clueless like a newborn child. That I’m actually here — everywhere when you needed me. You may be thinking I’m a pathetic someone who writes a lot of things like these between midnight and dusk, but really, I have an ineffable feeling towards you and want get this thing out.

It started as a rushing river, moving fast and scary towards me. But then eventually, I’ve built a huge wall against it, to control it, to tame the torrent, in hopes of slowly creating a system of gradual loosening up and that someday, it will eventually vanish. Or at least, someday I’ll grow into someone else not liable to what it may cause.

But to my own horror, I’ve let the small poke grow into a huge hole that’s slowly cracking and destroying the barrier and the time spent building this fortress was wasted over the tolerance of these feelings.

Now, I’m drowning in reality. In pain. In familiar chest pains. But I just want to say hello, how hard could that be?

Well, it’s apparently hard for me to have not done it yet. It’s hard as gambling your life for a pint of happiness. It’s hard as knowing you wouldn’t be loved back so you might as well just give every amount of effort to consume the ever-existing distance.


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