Aeternus, Eternus

Ever wondered what its like to be pathless?

I've always known. Even before reading about it. Even before I've come to my mental awakening.

All my life, I've been striving to please. Top grades, perfect behaviour (well sometimes not so perfect but still), and generally the good kid. Well at least that was the fact until 7 years ago.

7 years. Wow. Has it really been that long?

Chasing a dream that isn't really mine. All my life, I've been told that I would get into a good university. I wanted to get into a good university. It was the path to a good life. A better life.

You know, graduate with honours, find a snazzy high-paying job, maybe find a boyfriend and then get married, have kids, build a nice warm loving family while finding equal fufilment in the job.

Nice life huh?

But is it what I really want? I'm not sure.

I know I would like to graduate from university with honours. Pride, if nothing else, dictates that response. I get a sense of achievement, not to mention the familiar rush of adrenaline when I win something.

Winning. I can barely remember how it feels like anymore.

Instead, I keep remembering how it feels like to fail.

I keep telling myself that not being the best doesn't bother me. I was lying, and I knew it.

It did bother me. I was accustomed to success. I got high on it. Failure was a bitter pill to swallow. But I did it anyway.

Some say that tasting failure made some people strive to work harder in order not to experience it again. I'm not one of them. Instead, I wonder, what in the world am I doing?

Pathless. Living the life I'm expected to live. That I'm supposed to live. That I thought I wanted to live. Fighting over achievements. Striving still higher for greater heights. Forever searching for more than what we have already.

That's the life I'm expected to live. That's the life we're all expected to live.

To run in that rat race. To keep going faster and faster. More power. More money. More happiness. More fufilment. More of everything.

I don't know where I'm going. I said that to my dad. He got pissed. Duh.

He and my grandma then proceeded to tell me how easy my direction in life was. I still remember my dad's incredulous expression, and his baffled words, "How could you not know where you're going? You're a student, so just study, then get a job!"

I wonder why I even bothered in the first place. To explain I mean. They never understood, even when I tried to tell them. The moment he answered that way to my statement, I knew it was pointless to elaborate on why I felt that way.

God, you would think that the first thing he should have said would be, "But why do you feel that way?"

Actually, that was the second thing he said, but it was too late. His first statement revealed too much about his mindset. He could not, would not understand.

To my father, life is very much black and white. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. Actually, it's a lot easier to live that way. But back to the point.

My dad is a very simple, practical person. To him, life is like this: you are born, go to school, graduate, get a job, get married, have kids, then die later in life.

Pretty much like the picture I painted earlier.

For him, my life is very simple. I agree in some ways. After all, he does support me financially, he does most of the household chores, and lets me have a fair amount of freedom. The only thing he wants is for me to study, graduate, then get a good job. It shouldn't be too hard for someone like me right?

Right?

I could I suppose. I just have to stop thinking. Just give in. Just be the one society expects me to be. Study, graduate, get job. The married bit might be pushing it a little but yeah. I could do it. I could. I could really do it. I know I could do it. I have to do it. I need to do it.

But...why?

There. That was the accursed question that haunted me. Why? Why am I doing all this? Why am I doing what I'm doing? What am I doing this for? Who am I doing this for?

If I did follow the set path in life, I certainly wouldn't be doing it for myself. I would be doing it for other people. My dad. My granny. The people around me. Society. Even if society doesn't give a flying f*** about me failing and falling in the process. Never mind that.

Bottom line is, if I did go that way, I would be happy. Or so everybody keeps telling me. So I keep telling myself. I wanted to believe in that. So much. I desperately wanted myself to believe that.

But I can't. Because of that thrice-damned question. Why?

Why indeed?

Sometimes it seems, this cycle keeps repeating. I crack under this kind of turmoil. School, family, myself...it all revolves to form a huge hurricane, destroying all in its path. Namely me, but there's usually collateral damage.

I've broken down before. I've picked myself up before. Three times. Three times in seven years. Not too bad I guess. It could have been worse.

Everytime, when everything gets too much, I just fly apart into little pieces that scatter everywhere.

And then somehow, I manage to piece myself together, shard by little shard, trying desperately to glue everything back together.

I keep missing a few pieces. Each time I try to piece that shattered image together, I can't find a few pieces.

Everytime I break down, I lose a little more of myself. It may be just one or two little bits. One or two. Maybe three. Just tiny little bits. How could it matter really?

I remember a crack in the wall. Once it cracks, its flawed forver, no matter what you do to cover it over. You can't change that fact. Even if you can't see it anymore, the fact doesn't change that its still cracked. Or has been cracked. You can't change that. You can never change that.

I glued myself together before. I can do it again. And again. And again. Until there's nothing left to glue together. I don't think that will happen anytime soon. At least, that's what I'm hoping.

What am I doing to myself? I'm talented, I know that, and I'm grateful. Infinitely grateful, since I had something. Better than nothing. I'm intelligent, and I'm grateful, but at the same time its a bloody awful curse.

Cause if I weren't I wouldn't be able to see. I didn't want to see myself. I didn't want to see the ugliness. The sorrow. The pain. All the flaws and hidden cracks. I didn't want to see them. But I can, and there's no going back. I have to learn to live with being able to see, and I can't. I keep falling apart when things get too hard, I have no will to hold myself together. I'm weak, as much as I hate to admit it.

You know, reading all those Haruka/Michiru fics makes me feel happy, makes me feel somewhat hopeful. Because I keep seeing myself reflected in both of them. And if they can find happiness, maybe I can too.

But they had each other. I had no one. No, I don't mean friends or anything. I had friends. Good ones. Grace, Kanai, Chengwei. They know me, sort of. But I don't know them. Not that well. And I'm ashamed of it. If we're supposed to be friends, why is it that I never bothered to learn more? I'm truly a bad friend, aren't I?

I don't deserve them. These good friends. I'm grateful that they're there, that's for sure. But I feel like I don't deserve to have them around me. I don't deserve goodness because I'm such a bad person.

Haruka saw blood on her hands. As do I. We're aren't good enough, we thought. We didn't want them to get closer. It was too difficult, too dangerous.

Haruka found Michiru, although sometimes I think its the other way round. I have no one. At least not now.

A voice to trust. That's what I wrote for Mawata and Kei. I didn't have one. Not in the way I needed it.

Someone to hold on to. I didn't dare to reach out. I was a bad person.

Someone to protect. How can I protect someone when I can't even protect myself?

Someone to live for. I don't deseve them. I don't think I could let one near. How could I, knowing I'd lose them?

Just like Haruka was afraid of losing Michiru. Now I understand. I can't live with that.

A soulmate? Male or female? Does it matter? Souls have no gender, only the shell that binds it does.

Someone to hold me, someone I can trust. Provided I don't drive that person away first. I probably will.

Destiny has no footing in this world. It only exists in our dreams and fantasies.

I'm not strong. They all got it wrong. I'm not strong. I'm afraid. Just a frightened child. I never really grew up.

I'm just pretending. Kanai knew that. So did Chengwei. I'm glad. At least someone noticed.

That's why I'm a child. I'm selfish. I need attention. I keep taking, but I never give back in return. I'm possessive. I'm wilful. I'm childishly immature. That's why I say I never really grew up.

I don't know where I'm going. There are no paths in front of me. None that I can see, at any rate.

...no. There are paths. The straight and narrow one. The broad and winding one, beckoning in all its tempting glory.

And the last one, where there's no path at all. Just a wild blankness.

I walk where no one has walked before! Now where did I hear that before?

Easy to fall. So easy.

I'm spinning around in circles. The earth's rotating.

In the end, we all have our little problems. Don't you agree?

A little problem. That's all it is. A little problem.

Don't you think so?