I cried, day and night, for one weekend. That’s 48 hours of constantly crying until I was too exhausted to stay awake. I cried, every night, every lunch break, for months. Two or three, I can’t remember now, but even when I didn’t cry, even when I looked at the other meaningful aspects of life, I felt only sorrow and couldn’t find the escape.
I wish nothing had ever started.
But when I lay there, will broken, pride destroyed, faith crushed, on the dirty soil, at 2200m above the sea level, my heart pounding as if it was about to jump out of my chest, nothing mattered anymore. Maybe I was simply too exhausted to feel anything, to care about anything or anyone. Maybe it was just a coincidence where the ‘magical’ moment that everything became bright and clear happened to be the same moment I lay on the ground breathlessly. But that moment, that miserable moment when there was only me, myself, and I, I realized one thing: all magic ends, and when the clock chimes midnight, it is only me facing the truth and the expired spell. Like George Owell wrote in his masterpiece 1984 – “All you care about is yourself”. That is the human nature – selfish and unreliable. When I was left behind walking alone for hours, I blamed my friends, only to realize the magic called love ended. It was only me facing the ugly pumpkin and rats now. And my friends, they were simply following the human instinct – to care about themselves.
I may keep crying. It was totally my choice, but no fairy will materialize, no magic will last after midnight. No one will care. In the end, I am the only one to care about me most, to love me most, and to be responsible for my own life.
So I wiped my tears. My mourning was over. And I came back. Maybe I was still too tired to feel anything. Maybe I was disillusioned and simply gave up. Maybe time had just finished its work exactly the same moment I lay there broken to pieces. But now that I had pushed myself over the limit, no ugly pumpkin and rats could hurt me anymore.