Snowflake

It's hard for me to fight compulsion. I really think I should be medicated for that. I'd stare at the screen thinking of serendipities, and the next thing I know, I find myself typing your name. Again. Even goddamn facebook autocompletes your name after the first letter... And then, a horde of butteflies ram in my stomach. Some of them still sting fear. Scared that the last thumbmarks that left your steel heart might not be mine anymore. That that smile that draws from your pics doesnt come from me anymore. That maybe new flowers might bouquet their way into your facebook posts. That someone had slithered their way into your wall again.

I'm sure you know I have a trouble with compulsion. I'm sure you know I have a trouble with compulsion. I tend to be repetitive when my limbic system spells too much of you. But the beauty of the circuit of Papez is that it is an ever-evolving highway of learned lessons and strengthened emotions. But as for now, I hope I don't need drugs to silence my hands into shouting your name as it continually ride along this unsteady circuit despite how many times I put "detour" signs. Because you know, I have trouble with compulsion. I need to constantly remind myself why not. Why not. Why fucking not.

But like what I've always told you. Or tried to tell you. Or maybe I told you but I really didnt... That emotion will one day catch up with reason. That facts have established their way into my system, it's just that I've always been a slow learner (cause you know I have trouble with compulsion), but I know, too, I will get there. And I know it will get better. I mean, it should be, right, God? The sun have to set to rest awhile for the beautiful morning it will radiate a few moments later.

We were once like snowflakes. Perfect and symmetric. We fell hard and cold and fast. We were swift and beautiful and graceful and meaningful. We were flawlessly designed by what we thought the higher being had meant to be. But maybe that higher being had higher plans, and I am yet to understand why. But I think I already have a clue - because as seasons change, and tides move, and as trees shed leaves, so, too, does snowflakes melt. Not because it has grown ill, nor sick, nor hurtful, but simply because it has to. It was what nature intended it to be. Do we have to be mad with nature? Maybe. I think God will undestand why. But do we need to dwell on the melted snowflake and neglect to see the beauty of spring? 

I need no medication to know the answer.