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Sometimes I just don’t get it. This is the sentence that’s been running circles inside my brain all weekend long. Each time I shooed it away, it just crept back in, more annoyingly piercing and more undeniably rhetorical. No solution in sight; try as I might, I just can’t seem to get it.

“We accept the love we think we deserve” (The Perks of Being a Wallflower). There’s my way to a resolution.

Fact: what we want and what is good for us may well not even be in the same zip code. And yet we hold on to what we desire with our teeth, because giving up would be virtually as painful as if ripping off an arm or a leg while being wide awake and fully aware of every nerve being torn, every muscle being slashed and every bone being broken.

But if what we want just doesn’t seem to be leading us down our path to happiness, for how long can we hold on without risking having our souls crushed and mangled? For how long can we settle for less than what we need, and even less than what we want just because we are offered a tiny morsel of that which we want so badly? How much can we accept for the sake of the other’s happiness, while at the same time how little can we keep allowing to have accepted by the other person for the sake of our (or is it still their?) own happiness? Could you draw a limit?…Could you really?

A friend of mine wrote angry posts and deleted them shortly after. I won’t. Delete them, I mean. And my post won’t be angry (well, maybe just with a hint of). Rather hurt.