Everyone has a past. May it be a past that we are not proud of, may it be a past that we wish we could have done better, may it be a past that we want to erase for once and for all...But alas, history is set for us. As we embrace one and other, we must also embrace the baggage that they carry along, and make light of it.
Yet curiosity nibbles within me. It tempts me to accidently stumble upon pages of history, memorabilia in life. Questions after questions, ponders beyond ponders, I seek to fulfill the probability of wrong doings, past or present. As if a demon took over my body and acts on its evilness own, and I, helplessly watches it satisfying my darkest desire. Perhaps my insecurity will never be tamed. Perhaps the rotten truth of my parents' fail marriage makes it inevitable for me to distrust love.
And I know, I am lying. I saved face by saying I am ready, but I know I will never be ready. I may look strong, I may behave strong, but I am weak. I am weak in front of love, I am weak in front of temptation, I am weak in front of truth. And I let the darkness consumes me. I let fear overtakes me. But I also know, life is about overcoming. Without baggages, I would never come across a person who is willing to share my burden and showing me his. In this chaotic universe, disarray is a given. But wouldn't it be such thrill to know that I conquered disorder? Everything has a pattern; everything. Even disorder. So fear not, my love. The past is merely a pattern of life for us to observe and diagnose, and thus improve. With your hands in mine, we weave new patterns that has never been seen before, and possibilities that will astound all. There is always tomorrow...
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