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disappointed by ~hanabie on deviantART

It happens gradually, this acceptance of a fate that spits in the face of your capabilities. It begins with the little things - things that make you boil in righteous anger, leaving you exhausted and reduced to the mental capacity of an infant. As you age, you start thinking it’s time to train yourself, time to muster control to contain the rage. You mature and you succeed. Years later you see that you have lost the ability to care about the big things.

Sometimes your sense of self gets away from you, with vaguely a notion of how or why it happens. On these days, you call up false memories of happier times when it’s just you and your naivete surviving the onslaught of moral perversion. Each time you come out battle-weary but more able to handle the ways of the world. It costs you your innocence, which you have been steadily losing, fraction by fraction after the first battle you have won.

This is where you are now, complacent in your mediocrity. You give her up, yourself once upon a time, whose potential used to loom large in your mind. It’s a weakness, this reliance on a version of yourself, who has nothing but faith in herself and the world. She’s a liability and you’re desperate to break her. You’re convinced it will make you stronger. Better. It takes you more than a year to erase every trace of her in your life. Why is it that without her you feel emptier, more mediocre?