It is funny how you can spend so much time wishing a certain thing would happen, think about it and glorify it and think 'Man, if only'. Then everything would be better. It would make sense and be okay. You build it up, and when ever it is a moment of complete darkness you remember 'if only' and the darkness dose not feel so bad because you know that this one insignificant thing could fix it all. It becomes the cure-all, the antidote fir every poison.
But some rational part of you says that to hold something so high is wrong. It is an invitation to fall. So you reject it. Make it so that it us not even an option, no possibility of it exists in your mind. It is the fairy tale you use to calm yourself at night when shadows of monsters approach pulling at you, but know in your heart that it is not true. It is make believe and nothing more, nothing real.
But a tricky thing occurs, the thing that event finally happens. The mind struggles between feeling relieved and simply...not feeling. It goes against your rational. It can not happen. It was never meant to happen. Yet it dose and you scream out inside. In an instance you relive all the darkest times all those moments you cried out for this to happen to be a sign of something, of memory or hope. Now that formerly significant thing is hated, it is what made you have the darkness in the first place. You regret all the times you wished for it.
Oh the hilarity, the bitter hilarity of these turn of events.
By funny, I mean not funny at all. Not funny, but sad.
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