Sweetest Rejection

There is a chaos, one in which the only character who had to glow everyone up is breaking apart, like it were the last few flames out of that splitting candle. It’s a beautiful world out there, but the chances of one being left into an array of grief is pleasurably high.

Humans have evolved through sex, and with it, many who had to give up on their breath just to feel part of it. It’s hard to derail that idea, one which has the male counterpart always running after the female. It’s as if there was no other substitute, let alone rejection be a wholesome part of it.

Many, for this pluralistic life, have tried searching for that one person who will understand them, to make them see all the different colors that so elegantly dance around us, but makes a mockery out of each of us, times when one yearns for a special connection with someone and is unable to.

A kind of one sided love in which there is no better substitute than having daggers placed inside your tenderest heart, yet for the opposite sex to feel anything—just would never happen. But one reaches a point in life, when it’s been so much rain that the skies feel real only when it’s black.

Majority of us, knowing that life is always like this, tend to flow with the utter disappointment. It’s not that one is awestruck with overwhelming sadness all the time, but the feeling is somewhat conditioned to the idea of rejection instilled onto us for a very long time. Some see it as a little glitch, while others see it as a tragedy.

But the compounding idea, for the female species to continually reject, is somewhat unfair. It’s the way that we’ve been created, to yearn for touch and affection from the opposite sex, to feel part of this melting galaxy, and to watch the flowers blossom like it did during April.

Tides will not tolerate, and the walls of that peculiar room shall weep. But for how long, knowing that life is the thing that is supposed to be this. The idea of continually getting rejected by someone—one has to realize that it is not only pointless, but a disenchantment to oneself for continually having to purse that heartless body.

Now that we walk, out of all that life presents us with, we shan’t speak a thing, or ask of the opposite sex to love us. Everything has its maximum stance, and so it is—the very idea that you will have to run after everyone just to seek acceptance.

There are many ways, for one to find meaning in this lonely life, and to get attached like it’s the last day here, there has to be an absorption to the fact that rejection is inevitable. For pleasure shall be, only when one is able to acquire the comfort that it presents us with.

Many write about it while the others keep it to themselves, but the greatest epiphany is not living, while one had the entirety of the world revolving in favor of them. Sweetest rejection, come and hold us for as long as you can now—we dare to let it destroy us.

-Yogesh Chandra