Often, people yearn to find truth to satisfy their undying curiosity, but when they have found what they sought, it is not enlightenment they come to, it is, in fact, the suppressed, old feelings that one thought to have died, that comes to light again.
Happiness. It is short-termed.
Putting one's past behind, and letting bygones be bygones, burying the hatchet with a smile, the intention to be good again, turn over a new leaf. It is nothing but a lie one tells oneself.
We never change, do we?
Months, and months, I've been laughing together with her again. I seem to have gotten back what I have lost: the happiness I threw away because of December's mistake. We aren't close, not at all, but, she radiates the life around her and though I hate it so, there's a strange affinity holding me to her. I, rely on her to feel alive. I rely on her to feel safe. I rely on her to restore purpose into coming back once I'm gone.
It's not like that at all.
She's like that to everyone else.
Kindness, it seems, is a sort of poison. Given by the wrong people, forced upon the ones who cannot be saved, the vile venom flows through the throbbing veins slowly, burning them with its corrosive nature, reminding the infected of guilt and regret, driving them insane, eventually. Pure kindness from the wrong people is a malady that sickens and kills from within.
What was it that I truly wanted to confess?
I had found my truth, the closure which I have been yearning for desperately since December. At first, I thought that my curiosity had dissipated into mere indifference after the months of embracing the girl again. Now though, I admit to myself that I'd always wanted to know the truth, and have always had a loathing towards her. I have betrayed myself with my own optimistic lies of letting bygones be bygones. A Scorpio never forgets, and I am cursed to live with that trait which the stars have forced upon me.
My greedy heart is never satisfied. It wants to know even more, more about the truth which it doubts. This is but the beginning, I fear.
What I have just wrote is merely thoughts of my confused brain. They may or may not be true because I'm sleepy and my eyelids are losing their strength. If I have caused you misunderstandings or worries, I apologize dearly.
A good enough ending?