One dead tree

I knew this day would come. It just came too soon. Too unprepared for it. I have always feared that hatred and bitterness would destroy the bridge. Its just the beginning.

I don't know how and i don't know when. Why didn't i see it? I'm starting to think that i am mad at myself. How could i be so ignorant and so blind? I was surprised to receive that call. Being informed of something like that in the middle of my weekly shows is never a good thing for me. The impact was so great that i couldn't keep on doing what i usually do. How can someone so young have such strong resentment? My crystal world has been crushed. Have i fail? Am i a failure? "Yes", came the answer.

On the way back home, i cried. There were no tears. My heart was in so much confusion and pain that i almost teared. I thought the tear well was dried up years ago when i was broken up. I told myself that i will never drop another tear of sadness. How i wish i could drop another tear. Its so hard to not feel what i really felt. The sadness was real but the smiles were fake. I can't show what i really feel there and then. Its none of their business.

But i knew i had to talk to someone. I called up someone that can relate to what happened. Hoping to able to gain understanding that he might be able to shed some light into that resentment. But i guess when a person changes, so does the resentment. It became understanding. "Don't treat a child like a child" he says. I agree that this is a humbling process for me. Perhaps i was too proud to admit that i was wrong in someways. I keep on telling excuses. Excuses that i believed were facts. Now i don't know what is real anymore.

I rather being by myself lately. I don't mind if i dun get invited to anything at all. I just don't feel like talking to anyone sometimes. Let alone, socializing. I think i'm giving up. Unconsciously, i'm giving up on the society. I used to be a dreamer. Dreaming of things to come. Things that i can do and things that i want to do. But now i'm fighting to keep up a simple task. As if those dreaming mechanism aborted ship.

I looked into a mirror. I saw a fighter. Not a fighting fighter but a defeated one. Bruised and broken. Weakened and dejected. Bloodied and laying on the ground. Those eyes...are one who has no soul in it. Those feet...can no longer stand. Its a sad, sad view.

Just like a dead tree in the middle of field, everything around is alive and well. Out of place and out of frame. That tree has given up when the last bough had broken off. Nothing short of a miracle can save that tree now. What will spring bring?