All my life, I've often been forced to imbibe the mantra, "don't give up." I know there is something beautiful about positivity, about being hopeful, persistent and consistent -- it leads us to triumph.
I have always believed that we can be the super hero of our own story. I was made to believe that if you put it your efforts and work to reach a goal, you will get there. There have been times when, no matter how afraid I am or how little confidence I have left in myself, I have jumped unto something with eyes closed, fingers crossed, and a heart that cries out, "Lord, I trust you on this one." Maybe that huge amount of insecurity in me made me hold on to that faith in One Almighty whom I can turn to whenever I feel like giving up. Somehow, there is that one true hero beneath the super woman wanna be.
But unlike the Almighty who never runs out of super powers, there comes a time when I have to wave the white flag and tada -- I give up. Not because I didn't want to face the challenge but because I begin to cease seeing what is there to fight for.
Maybe this is one of those few moments when I give up. No, super woman does not exist! Don't force me unto believing that I can have whatever it is that I want to -- that would be kind of greedy.
I am tired.
Tired of trying to understand and make the opposite poles meet.
Tired of listening to the ones who enjoy playing almighty.
Tired of receiving cries for help and then learning that the one who are supposed to help them are doing business as usual (sorry, I can only do as much)
Tired of being in the middle of a rocket ship reaching out to the universe and the dust-like creatures below being pulled down by gravity.
Tired of deciphering the jargons.
The jargons of political correctness.
The jargons of the intellectuals.
The jargons of the sub-cultures.
The jargons of love.
No, super woman does not exist.
Don't force me to believe that she does.
Don't force me to accept your truth as the absolute.
Don't force me to follow you blindly.
You have your story and I have mine; each one of us has her own.
Understand contexts.
Listen.
Learn.
Unlearn.
Listen.
Act.
Talk back.
Listen.
Act.
Listen.
Undestand.
Super woman does not exist. She is neither you nor me.
In my frail moments, I give up.
I cry.
I feel sad.
I do stupid things.
I feel remorseful.
I feel empty.
I cry once more.
I feel that heavy thing on my chest.
I reach out to find a helping hand, welcoming arms, listening ears, and open mind.
As always, I am left with no one else but that One Almighty who have always been there to pick up my broken heart and fill my empty soul.
I rest my case.
I give up.
