The Puppet in me

Even when we have no one to blame, we feel heartbroken. Lost in the chaos of it all. Time goes by. Days turning into months, months into years and we still can’t shake the emptiness that we’ve ended up planting in ourselves. Could it be that we’re breaking our own hearts? All the expectations, the daydreams are causing this pain? It is ironic how the only reason most of us don’t get close to someone is to protect our hearts, and yet we are causing the damage. Come to think of it, isn’t this worse? We are breaking our own hearts and we can’t find a way to repair it or at the very least someone to blame it on.

This made me wonder, why is it that we create those perfect scenarios in our heads in the first place, when we all know for sure they’re not going to happen? What is it with these made-up stories? Does it quinch our thirst? Give our firey untameable hearts the satisfaction it craves? What is it? Why do we do this to ourselves? I’ve come to believe that these scenarios, this hope that we’re desperately holding onto is nothing but a dead-end. And yes, we always blame the guys for breaking our hearts, but sadly I’ve been proven that that is as untrue as love itself. We’re both the puppet and the puppeteer.

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