For When It’s Peace And Havoc, I Choose The Latter!!!

Havoc, by definition in simple terms means “widespread destruction.” And while normal people use it for different situations and natural calamities like floods, earthquakes etc, I like to use it for myself.

I am a havoc, yes I truly am. But with a little difference. When you open any search engine and type the word,

some similar words that come up when are;

devastation, destruction, damage , desolation,depredation , despoliation, ruination,ruin, disaster,ravagement,waste, catastrophe……

And I am all of them, however, the only difference is, I am all these words for myself. While a natural calamity causes destruction that affects other people, I am the kind of havoc that wrecks no one but my own self. I have been one, ever since day one. It’s something that I just noticed recently and something that I didn’t directly notice. Someone pointed it out to me. Someone held the torch and asked me to explore the dark alley. I like to torture myself, while I say I love myself.

And how do I know that? Because each day when I wake up, I find this desire to make amends with everyone who has wronged me, this definitely does not mean I have never wronged someone ever, and that’s when I know what havoc am I. Each night when I go to sleep, I cry tears because certain people left me. People leave me for my betterment, for my peace of mind, but with the kind of neurotic person I am, I somehow try to get them back. And to resist oneself is the hardest shit.

I can resist anything, anyone but myself and that’s my weakest point. That right there always brings havoc. I go back to that abandoned train station, wishing for those trains to return, hoping to light back the fire. I try to sweep all the dirt. I sit there hoping for it to come back. Sit there all night trying a way to figure out how to get those trains to come back.

But, there’s always another side of the story, but in my case, there is another side of mine, a peaceful one, that tries to control this havoc. And I am so grateful for that side of mine to exist because it helps me to think rationally. But havoc doesn't think so. She knows that peace makes me suffer, so bad.

My havoc doesn’t want me to cry at night, she doesn’t like me wailing so she always asks me to make hasty decisions. The decisions I will regret in the broad daylight. But then there comes peace. The one that keeps me firm on my ground. She makes me see all the reasons why the train station should always stay abandoned. She whispers every night why I sleep without anyone’s Good Night texts or wake up without any Good Morning ones.

Peace makes me realise that I am more worthy than I think and even though she is the reason I cry myself to sleep, that I cannot concentrate on a book, a character or any relationship in a series and movies I still think I am better with her by my side. Havoc is that drug that makes you feel ecstatic for a short time period but when the reality sets in, it gets shittiest than it ever was. Still, each day my heart desires havoc. Maybe I love to see my reflection that smiles for a short period of time because that’s how it goes, that’s how long it takes me to relapse. Or maybe I love to see myself suffer.

For quite some time I used to think that there was someone else who could bring me down. but no, the only person capable of bringing me down is my own goddamn self. Nobody but I am responsible for the catastrophe in my life and nobody but I am solely responsible for the oasis that appears when there’s no hope for one.

There are nights when I see peace sitting next to me with puffy eyes because we both cried the night before and I wait for havoc to turn up on my doorstep. But then come nights when I sleep like a baby because it’s havoc next to me, embracing me in the warmest hugs ever, promising me a bright day ahead.

The only difference here is that peace never lets havoc stop by in the morning. She knows the consequences of it far too well. My peace is not the one you imagine. It’s not all white and pretty, instead, it shows burns, the kind you would faint at the sight of. And I know why those burns are there. My peace has scars, the ones you think nobody can bear. My peace has little to no hair because she stresses about me too much that she lost all of them. My peace has a ribcage showing through the thinnest layer of skin on top. I know why my peace has a tainted figure while yours is perfect as porcelain.

She ensures every night that havoc never stops by in the morning and because she knows I am biased towards havoc, she has to put in every ounce of strength she has to keep me away from turning that abandoned train station back to normal one. Because when it happens, it is going to be a cataclysmic failure. For that day, I know the train station will start working. Maybe the trains arrive a bit late, but they will come back. And peace knows once they come back, I will be the exact copy of her, maybe worse. For who knows I will be able to tell a story after I make that train station work normal. Because a day like that would only bring one resolution- gone but never forgotten!!!