Thursday, October 28, 2010

We're fighting this war baby when both of us are losing.

I've heard of a story.

It was a story of a small boy who was playing around in a field one day. It was a very beautiful field with colourful flowers and a carpet of green grass. Butterflies were fluttering around like a world of their own. After many many attempts, the small boy finally managed to catch a butterfly with his tiny hands. Overcame with joy, he cupped the butterfly within his palms and held on to it tightly while rushing home to share his glee with his mother. Smile plastered on his face, he told his mother on how he managed to catch the butterfly and opened his hands to show her. The butterfly just laid there motionless. It was dead because the small boy accidentally crushed it when he was running home, holding onto it too tightly.

The small boy reminded me of myself. Perhaps I've been holding on too tightly all the while. Suffocating myself and barely leaving space for you to breathe. You're struggling for air and I'm struggling to keep you in my hands. In the end, we'll both end up like the butterfly - crushed.

It takes two hands to clap, I know. But no point blaming others when it could change nothing.

Or perhaps, I shouldn't make you such a big part of my life. Sadly for you, you already are.

And hopefully one day, you'll look back and realise that I've held onto the butterfly so tightly because it was something so important to me that I could never bear losing.


everyone might just have wished to be in a state of drunkenness,
Because when you're sober,
The tears in life would only make you sick and tired.
But if I really gave my entire heart out,
Would I just end up with nothing but loneliness in the end?

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