Now

It feels a little bit better now, I suppose. Everything kind of settles back into place. And everything doesn't seem as out of reach as it did before. I can just stretch my hands and take as much as I want; I can keep as much as I want, as much as I am able to.

But every little thing still has its consequences. Day by day, I am getting very used to them, to be honest. Every pain, every small stitch, every ache, The pain of keeping them only in my head even feels heavenly to me. Everything of it just hurts like heaven.

I often seem to feel nauseous every time the thought crosses my mind. But I suppose, it's just because the butterflies in my belly collide with one another, threatening to overcome my logical mind with the swirling effects and just make an explosive upshot. Feels like it rains confetti inside, but a poker face outside. It's merely me who can feel the naturally colorful lights starting to blind my worldly sight and soothe me 'till I am soundly asleep; to lure me to close my eyes forever and live in the dreams I always wish were truly happening. 

But then, getting hit by reality still hurts, even somehow it hurts like heaven.

Good thing is, the desperation isn't even there anymore. It barely left any track; it was long gone. I am pretty surprised by the fact, considering it was always hard to not be hopeful. To not give everything and not hope to get everything back just twice as much. It sounds just as unfair.

Now I start to relish the joy, as well as the sorrow; they are all in one package. I'm in for this weird friendship of the most illogical and the most conscious minds, as long as there's a sober one in the circle, to keep all of them from crossing the thin line, farther.