The Breaking Point

.:The Breaking Point:.

He has held his tongue and extended his patience for as long as he humanly can.

For the past year and a half, he has been through a living hell, and what everyone saw on the outside has merely been the tip of the iceberg. If there was one thing he tried so hard to do, it was to try to hide every single burden he was carrying within him from plain view. Many people may know or have an inkling that he was going through a lot, but next to nobody had any inkling how deep it went.

When you strip away all the fond nostalgia, it boils down to this: two years of being treated like a doormat, two years of being made to feel that you are absolutely insignificant, and two years of being made to believe that you are a terrible person and your very presence is a source of embarrassment. Brainwashing that does a number to any man’s self-esteem. A pain that ran so deep that he believed it was his fault things fell apart.

Despite that, he kept on keeping on. Smiling in the face of adversity, fighting the pain and the urge to just end it all because the pain, instead of diminishing over time, actually amplifies as the months go by. Nobody said it was easy, but there is merit to be had in triumph over such adversity.

And then, as if calling back to a time where you were worth even less than the most insignificant of insects, they come up with a way to make you feel horrible about yourself again. All your well-meaning, all your niceness, it all becomes twisted around and instead of recognizing that you are actually a good person, all that goodness is looked upon with suspicion. It is looked upon with disdain.

And day after day, you are harshly reminded of it.

Can’t you take a hint? When someone asks you to cut it out, is it just too difficult to stop being a douchebag for ten seconds?

And as if all that weren’t enough, the very reason you went through hell suddenly deigns to remember that you exist! Is this not momentous?

Except as if she wasn’t done making him feel even more insignificant than he already did, she remembered him because her friends wanted to ask him a favour.

Y’know, the same friends who said he was no good for her? Yeah, those ones.

There. Are. No. Words.

Let’s make it clear: she never loved him. She personified selfishness. True love means accepting someone despite his faults. She never did. She kept on hoping he’d walk this way, he’d be a little less geeky, he’d quit being a magician, he’d change religions, he’d be a little more Chinese, and maybe even lose weight.

In short, if he stopped being who he actually is.

The anger and the hurt, all that he has bottled up for so long, now erupts. He has reached his breaking point. After years of being made to feel insignificant, of being taken for granted, of being remembered only when he’s useful for something, after deluding himself that he was actually loved for so long, the painful truth rears its ugly head.

He deserved better than any of this. And now, he knows it. The breaking point has been reached.