I can give you myself, but you can never own me

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Losing Ground
In an attempt to find someone, not just anyone, keeping in mind that
conscientious concept of the right one, we lose more in the end:

We lose more when things don't work out the way you felt it at first.
When you become so engrossed over every little thing that doesn't really
matter to anyone else; or when you pay attention to every little detail, like
flower petals you pick one by one, hoping to get a favorable answer in the end,
only to know that the petals are even-numbered.

We lose more when there's really nothing to talk about, but you have so much
to say, thinking that the thoughts you've been hiding would bring about
changes, would spark beginnings, will start new journeys. And in so much
effort to speak at the right moment, no one listened.

We lose more when you do things so genuinely noble, yet, no one comes
to you when you truly needed somebody, seeking not consolation,
but real pain relief.

We lose more by wearing your heart on your sleeves, void of all subtleties
and poetry, only to be told to stop it from beating.

We lose more when you try to forget and leave things behind, only to realize
that you're already so broken from trying; that it is beyond difficult, nearly
irraparable, like little cracks on a glass which started from a seemingly harmless pebble.

In trying to gain someone for yourself, whom you truly and rightfully believe is yours to take,
you lose more of yourself. It just so happens that you'll be conscious of everything, the moment
you know yours won't be a happy ending. After all, you tried, and each man is for his own bet.


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