Life is too short for hatred

I need to write something before I go to bed. I want to resume my writing habit—it helps me take care of my mental health. Looking back over the last few months, the only word I can use to describe my life is tight. Just tight. Tight, tight, tight. Most of the time, I feel like a string that’s been pulled to its absolute limit.

I live with fear and anxiety. They don’t show up all the time, but I know they’re always there, just waiting for the right moment to surface. I prayed and placed myself in the care of the universe, the Buddha, the deities and my ancestors. Still… it’s so hard to find peace and balance. Fear and anxiety never really go away. They get triggered so easily, and when they do, they take over. They drain me. They leave me exhausted.

When I think about what happened between them, it hurts so badly inside me—none of them sees it or even cares. I keep all of that pain to myself.

I told myself to focus on my life, to practice more gratitude, compassion, and understanding. I tried to understand why things ended up this way, their decisions, their motives, and tried to accept reality.

But even so, I was still frustrated. When SB tried to manipulate me, when SB tried to fill me with hatred, revenge, and fear, when she believed she had done nothing wrong and chose right and wrong over compassion and love in dealing with the situation, anger boiled inside me. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help feeling furious at such blindness.

I feel her pain, but the way she acts is so destructive and negative. It doesn’t have to be this extreme—it’s just not worth it. I can tell she doesn’t actually want to end this relationship, but what she’s doing leads nowhere and only escalates everything. He thinks she’s playing games, which is why he doesn’t want to get involved. That might be true but she may not even realize she’s doing it. It’s probably just a pattern that she falls into whenever she feels hurt. The situation itself isn’t even that big, yet it’s being treated like something extreme. It feels like bringing a knife to a situation that doesn’t need one—turning something small into something much bigger than it is, and then feeling bitter about the outcome.

In short, everything is black and white to her, so once he’s terrible, he can’t be good in any way.

Time flies. Wars rage. So many people are struggling just to survive. This silence is absurd. Who’s right or wrong in a relationship becomes meaningless.