Struggling with my own emotions, I never gave up. By the virtue of which I had that thought of healing everyone around me with the vibes they entailed. I packed the bag full of love and the journey began.
Not way back in time, I was drained in my emotions full of desolation around me. I could feel the presence of no one around me but my own sabotaged soul. Such an irony to my own condition that my soul ate up my own soul still it gave all the healing strength. Cursing my own condition, I wished if ever someone close to me ever let a single tear down their eyes, my absence should be out of question and my presence should always guarantee their happiness.
Carrying the burden of melancholy, my sole rose up to take this journey. Offering my prayers and seeking blessings from the almighty, I decided to opt other’s pain as mine. It hurts, to be very honest, to carry your own sorrow with other’s as well, though it also gives satisfaction to not to see others in despair. I realized that it was the only way to overcome my pain.
All went well, I could make people a part of my life, perceive them and be a reason for the smile on their face. It was all like a fantasy where I had a mask over my face. Well said, “One incident can shatter the whole of you.” Under the cover of happiness, I forgot my actual stand. I forgot who I was to even venture to be part of their life. I failed to understand that in a way I was adding more to their pain. No matter how good my intentions were, I hurt them. I defined the beauty of happiness in an unholy way with a nauseating act of metaphoric bitter kindness.
Moving on with this regret, there could now be no coming back. In a way, I thought I was getting healed but this added more to it now. The wish I made was now in my head but hands were bounded by me being no one to them. Here I am now, dealing with my own problems while leaving others with theirs back again.