i’ve come undone.
it has always been about them. it has always been their struggle; how they were falling from a broken rope and about how I was there to catch them. it was never about the weight I endured to carry; it was never the pain I received for doing so.
and who had to care about my selflessness? it was in fact, my choice. maybe my mistake. maybe it was wrong that i proved to be an important person, because in the end, i never became that person.
it was never about finding out if i was really okay.
i am not the type to get angry.
you can ask my friends, my acquaintances, anyone- they’ll tell you that i’m a guy who’s more often than not happy; i’ll never shout out of anger, i’ll never rage, i’ll never get violent, and maybe that’s a good thing. maybe it’s good that i have a way with people; maybe it’s good that i can control my anger.
but i’m not quite sure if it’s healthy for myself.
i come from a family with a history of hypertension or high blood pressure. i’m used to my dad shouting, and my mom too, occasionally. i’ve always thought i was different from them; i thought maybe, i could be spared from the history because i seldom get mad. i always cried instead of shouting or getting violent. crying, i thought, was what proved to be what set me apart.
but as the years went by, i realized that i do get mad, and that i do get angry. it’s just that i’ve been keeping it in this whole time. maybe crying was my way of keeping it in. maybe crying was the sign that i can’t keep bottling in all the anger and the rage that i feel.
i’m an empathetic person. i always always always put myself in another person’s shoes, so i really hate getting mad at other people. moreover, i don’t want to break long-established bonds, relationships, and friendships. i do my best to be patient. i never really know where my boiling point is.
i never really know when that day will come; that day when i’ll just let it all out. that day when i’ll just explode.
and i’m scared, because i don’t want my health to be affected. although, i don’t want others to be affected, either.
i’m torn between self-righteousness and compassion.
and it makes me angry as well.
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