Loose Ends

Ties, once cut, become loose ends that dangle aimlessly in the abyss where life's clutter is refused. To have thought that relationships could be severed in absolution, that the end meant what had been would cease to exist, was undoubtedly shallow. Now, I wake up haunted by these ribbons of decaying connections as they spread the pores of stale remorse through the allies of my mind.

Memories, unfulfilled desires, lingering hope, bashful thoughtlessness and irrevocable stupidity-- these are the intricacies of a severed connection one cannot rid of. At best, they are suppressed and forgotten as we seek out newer connections to ruin; the debris of a more recent pain piling up upon the old ones that have started to numb.

Have my number, add me on Facebook, here's my email. The careless irrationality that follows the initial fervour of building something new is the child that throws a tantrum after seeing every desirable toy at the toy store. Its noise blocks out the composed advice of a sound superego and lets the id take full charge in making decisions for the ego. How this ends for the unthinking being is that relationships are seen as void and meaningless, which should be taken for granted. Loose ends never seem to bother these people, for their breath only leaves condensation upon the surface of their conscious realisation.

What is the point of cutting ties when they can be mended without being sewn? Sending an instant message to the other would have already rejoined the connection one strained to tear at a certain point in their lives. Of course, communication is two-way and a response is required for a connection to be considered a success, but the sheer convenience of being able to connect and re-connect at any given point in time makes the reality of loose ends all the more unbearable. For one, loose ends become a more concrete existence because connectivity in an age of constant connection is impossible to ignore.

Should I isolate myself and live as a hermit in my closed circle of stable relationships? The disappointment I have been shot with when forging new connections these past months has wounded me too greatly. In gentle convalescence, I wrap my body of insecurities in a blanket that still carries the scent of sunlight and let the pain felt by an abused heart bleed out as it acquiesce in spending time hardening in solitude.