Essay's
Love is emotions currency and relationships are business transactions.
I have willfully ignored thriftiness; in that, I have been generous in investing my love
in a select few, in a silent and desperate hope to have in return the same.
For that conscious lack of frugality, I hosted all consequences. It is a regretful truth
that any business transaction that I had taken part in had failed, and, in so doing,
had thoroughly incised holes into the bank of my emotions, my heart. And so my
fortune is soon to be depleted, as the people in whom I so heartily invested my love
have heartily refused to reciprocate.
Indeed, I was impulsive and callow; my mind was overridden with images of happy
endings that unceasingly prevailed in books and in movies; naivety reigned without
interruption. It has taken gradual degradation and failure to rid my mind of such
convictions. It has taken gradual degradation and failure to inject into my mind a
dose of reality, in which happy endings are seldom seen. I have enjoyed wealth in a
world of ignorance, yet I have been ‘reduced’ to poverty in my profession. However,
what the poverty of love had taken from me, it has returned, more than generously,
in knowledge, because of which I am amply supplied to begin my business anew.
Blinding was my degree of infatuation. Reason and rationality had become a
heap of memories, and soon, they were to outstrip even my memory, as
they were sentenced to ‘oblivion’ row. True was nature to its word, for soon love
had stripped me of reason and left me unprotected for all pains due. In my
confusion, my mouth spoke, and betrayed me of the secrecy it solemnly promised; it
spoke words of truth, words that carried on their shoulders either my demise or
fortune for which I was yet unprepared. Indeed, the object of my affection disgraced
precisely that word, ‘affection’, with the display of affection-free nothing towards me.
But this made my longing for her all the more intense, for there is nothing I would
want more than something that is beyond my reach. Soon, without any doubt, dignity
had slowly crept away, and a hole in my soul was punctured; it leaked forth,
undisturbed, all emotions and feelings. But it was my idiocy that punctured that hole,
when I had made my feelings vain. It should only justify my haste and stupidity, which
occupied my mind during the period of confusion, that she should be only more
repulsed and drawn away from me.
Many nights missed my sleep; me eyes would not close, as if pincers
tugged at the eyelids, paralyzing their movement. I would, unconsciously, focus my
attention on a single space, the site of the merger of my diverse thoughts. My mind
was a prison, the home of impenetrable walls within which she lived. Anomalous to
the common inmates’experience, she enjoyed residing there, for it caused me great
pains. I would eventually doze off, due to pure exhaustion, but this rest was an
ephemeral pleasure, for my dreams haunted my being; their main character was the
target of my uninhibited infatuation, and their plot was of an unwelcome result. It only
followed for me to awaken,and continue reliving, physically and emotionally, the
nightmare. Such were my nights. During the day, however, my undeclared servitude
was apparent, but much less, of course, when no sun could hide its presence. It
became all the more difficult to bear on my chest all that love has to offer, when one
has to carry all the weight alone. The image of divine creature that had danced
around in my dreams, consisting only of fibers of imagination, was now, flesh and
bone, and all the more commanding, although she may not have known it. The
power she exercised in my mind was increased tenfold in her tangible
state. I realized, however difficult, that it was my miserable self that had given her
that commanding power and rendered me her feeble servant.
While the suffering and pain had joyfully joined hands in their plight against me, I
had found solace in the twin misery that plagued another. He had devoted his
attention and affection to her, as had I, and was overwhelmed with feeling of
utter dejection, as was I. The pain was gradually subdued, never entirely, when I was
with him. It was a high time when had schemed against her, practicing, to the best
of our knowledge, the art of execration on that unfortunate victim that was,
nevertheless, what we longed for most. We lived in a blissful world, where
temporary consolation was hidden self-deception. We had found common ground,
on masking our true feelings, and finding an object of hate against her, but it was
not so; for every time I said I hated her, I thought a hundred times of how I loved her.
Perhaps so did my companion, and future events would lead me to cement that
opinion as a truth. Indeed, we both lived in ignorance and denial, for what we spoke
was not loyal to our hearts will. The longer we took refuge in this state of denial, the
more our love for the creature grew; hence, the more our hate for
one another grew.
Alas, our hatred for one another was nourished generously with jealousy, as
there was an ample supply. This invisible, yet unmistakable presence lingered
about me without mercy, and consequently drove me to paranoia. My thoughts had
divulged entirely on the potentiality of the couple: my friend, at present,competitor,
and that divinely abhorred female. Perhaps, I was not so afraid of not being the
receptor of her love, but was, assuredly, that my friend should be it. And,
unhindered, my paranoia flourished under these circumstances. I could not stop to
think of anything else, and if I attempted to do so, their image was forced into my
mind. Simultaneously, an invisible, yet tangible dagger was thrust softly, so as to
guarantee pain, into my heart; and I became numb, temporarily paralyzed. I had no
power to impede their imagined progress, and had to watch on, as a spectator
during the hanging of a loved one.
Recently, I have been notified that my diagnosis was a falsity, for paranoia
existed not, and my ideas had been the right ones. Indeed, the two are now
one couple. This did not happen at first, I suspect, but it did occur, and I could
do nothing to retard its gradual progression.
I had valiantly fought the urge to tell them my benevolent thoughts on
their behalf, and I had won. For this last phase in my education, I neglected
to exhibit emotion or feeling toward the princess; I had spoken to him on rare
occasions, as he had with me, but, when such occasions arose, my words were few
and my tone, commanding, all the more commanding that his attempted to be. I
realized nothing could be done to erect my blue-print, my plan, and had I tried, my
design would surely falter, and with it, my soul. I had thought it an excellent method
of self-therapy, and indeed, it was. My affection left me, perhaps not entirely, but for
the most part it dived into nonexistence, and I was relieved. No longer is anguish my
shadow; no longer is my soul saturated with pain.
I emerged from this endeavor physically empty-handed, perhaps, even, deprived
of rest and happiness, and for this I owe nature its thanks. It was, from the inception
of my infatuation, destined to result as it did, because it was nature’s choice. And
natures knows no discrimination, for it has a toll in everybody’s grievances and in
their delayed upheaval. It played this cruel joke on me, and for it I am eternally
grateful, for if it did not happen then, it would have happened at another time, and
my lesson would have been learned in, yet, a more painful way, perhaps, in a way
which I could not bear and abandon altogether. I have come to realize that it would
be easier to accept what is happening, instead of pushing in the opposite direction;
to do so would be to willingly disarm yourself of reason and sense, and fall,
unprotected, at the mercy of natures will. But I have learned, and replaced wealth
with knowledge and experience. They are the fibers that now comprise the
protective wrap over my heart and soul and shielded from anguish and pain. In fear
of nothing, I aspire to begin anew.
By Pavel Gurevich
Copyright belongs to Pavel Gurevich
All Rights Reserved
I have willfully ignored thriftiness; in that, I have been generous in investing my love
in a select few, in a silent and desperate hope to have in return the same.
For that conscious lack of frugality, I hosted all consequences. It is a regretful truth
that any business transaction that I had taken part in had failed, and, in so doing,
had thoroughly incised holes into the bank of my emotions, my heart. And so my
fortune is soon to be depleted, as the people in whom I so heartily invested my love
have heartily refused to reciprocate.
Indeed, I was impulsive and callow; my mind was overridden with images of happy
endings that unceasingly prevailed in books and in movies; naivety reigned without
interruption. It has taken gradual degradation and failure to rid my mind of such
convictions. It has taken gradual degradation and failure to inject into my mind a
dose of reality, in which happy endings are seldom seen. I have enjoyed wealth in a
world of ignorance, yet I have been ‘reduced’ to poverty in my profession. However,
what the poverty of love had taken from me, it has returned, more than generously,
in knowledge, because of which I am amply supplied to begin my business anew.
Blinding was my degree of infatuation. Reason and rationality had become a
heap of memories, and soon, they were to outstrip even my memory, as
they were sentenced to ‘oblivion’ row. True was nature to its word, for soon love
had stripped me of reason and left me unprotected for all pains due. In my
confusion, my mouth spoke, and betrayed me of the secrecy it solemnly promised; it
spoke words of truth, words that carried on their shoulders either my demise or
fortune for which I was yet unprepared. Indeed, the object of my affection disgraced
precisely that word, ‘affection’, with the display of affection-free nothing towards me.
But this made my longing for her all the more intense, for there is nothing I would
want more than something that is beyond my reach. Soon, without any doubt, dignity
had slowly crept away, and a hole in my soul was punctured; it leaked forth,
undisturbed, all emotions and feelings. But it was my idiocy that punctured that hole,
when I had made my feelings vain. It should only justify my haste and stupidity, which
occupied my mind during the period of confusion, that she should be only more
repulsed and drawn away from me.
Many nights missed my sleep; me eyes would not close, as if pincers
tugged at the eyelids, paralyzing their movement. I would, unconsciously, focus my
attention on a single space, the site of the merger of my diverse thoughts. My mind
was a prison, the home of impenetrable walls within which she lived. Anomalous to
the common inmates’experience, she enjoyed residing there, for it caused me great
pains. I would eventually doze off, due to pure exhaustion, but this rest was an
ephemeral pleasure, for my dreams haunted my being; their main character was the
target of my uninhibited infatuation, and their plot was of an unwelcome result. It only
followed for me to awaken,and continue reliving, physically and emotionally, the
nightmare. Such were my nights. During the day, however, my undeclared servitude
was apparent, but much less, of course, when no sun could hide its presence. It
became all the more difficult to bear on my chest all that love has to offer, when one
has to carry all the weight alone. The image of divine creature that had danced
around in my dreams, consisting only of fibers of imagination, was now, flesh and
bone, and all the more commanding, although she may not have known it. The
power she exercised in my mind was increased tenfold in her tangible
state. I realized, however difficult, that it was my miserable self that had given her
that commanding power and rendered me her feeble servant.
While the suffering and pain had joyfully joined hands in their plight against me, I
had found solace in the twin misery that plagued another. He had devoted his
attention and affection to her, as had I, and was overwhelmed with feeling of
utter dejection, as was I. The pain was gradually subdued, never entirely, when I was
with him. It was a high time when had schemed against her, practicing, to the best
of our knowledge, the art of execration on that unfortunate victim that was,
nevertheless, what we longed for most. We lived in a blissful world, where
temporary consolation was hidden self-deception. We had found common ground,
on masking our true feelings, and finding an object of hate against her, but it was
not so; for every time I said I hated her, I thought a hundred times of how I loved her.
Perhaps so did my companion, and future events would lead me to cement that
opinion as a truth. Indeed, we both lived in ignorance and denial, for what we spoke
was not loyal to our hearts will. The longer we took refuge in this state of denial, the
more our love for the creature grew; hence, the more our hate for
one another grew.
Alas, our hatred for one another was nourished generously with jealousy, as
there was an ample supply. This invisible, yet unmistakable presence lingered
about me without mercy, and consequently drove me to paranoia. My thoughts had
divulged entirely on the potentiality of the couple: my friend, at present,competitor,
and that divinely abhorred female. Perhaps, I was not so afraid of not being the
receptor of her love, but was, assuredly, that my friend should be it. And,
unhindered, my paranoia flourished under these circumstances. I could not stop to
think of anything else, and if I attempted to do so, their image was forced into my
mind. Simultaneously, an invisible, yet tangible dagger was thrust softly, so as to
guarantee pain, into my heart; and I became numb, temporarily paralyzed. I had no
power to impede their imagined progress, and had to watch on, as a spectator
during the hanging of a loved one.
Recently, I have been notified that my diagnosis was a falsity, for paranoia
existed not, and my ideas had been the right ones. Indeed, the two are now
one couple. This did not happen at first, I suspect, but it did occur, and I could
do nothing to retard its gradual progression.
I had valiantly fought the urge to tell them my benevolent thoughts on
their behalf, and I had won. For this last phase in my education, I neglected
to exhibit emotion or feeling toward the princess; I had spoken to him on rare
occasions, as he had with me, but, when such occasions arose, my words were few
and my tone, commanding, all the more commanding that his attempted to be. I
realized nothing could be done to erect my blue-print, my plan, and had I tried, my
design would surely falter, and with it, my soul. I had thought it an excellent method
of self-therapy, and indeed, it was. My affection left me, perhaps not entirely, but for
the most part it dived into nonexistence, and I was relieved. No longer is anguish my
shadow; no longer is my soul saturated with pain.
I emerged from this endeavor physically empty-handed, perhaps, even, deprived
of rest and happiness, and for this I owe nature its thanks. It was, from the inception
of my infatuation, destined to result as it did, because it was nature’s choice. And
natures knows no discrimination, for it has a toll in everybody’s grievances and in
their delayed upheaval. It played this cruel joke on me, and for it I am eternally
grateful, for if it did not happen then, it would have happened at another time, and
my lesson would have been learned in, yet, a more painful way, perhaps, in a way
which I could not bear and abandon altogether. I have come to realize that it would
be easier to accept what is happening, instead of pushing in the opposite direction;
to do so would be to willingly disarm yourself of reason and sense, and fall,
unprotected, at the mercy of natures will. But I have learned, and replaced wealth
with knowledge and experience. They are the fibers that now comprise the
protective wrap over my heart and soul and shielded from anguish and pain. In fear
of nothing, I aspire to begin anew.
By Pavel Gurevich
Copyright belongs to Pavel Gurevich
All Rights Reserved
Aspiring Writers Magazine
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