The Truth Behind Caring Less

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Have you ever felt miserable for not feeling things? Ironically, that has been my state for the past months—not having enough motivation to fuel me to write experiences and feelings. It’s as if I have finally learned to care less, way less, about everything. I try to revoke, but I simply become nauseated with the thought. I just like everything the way they are now.

But also, I don’t feel alive.

Not having to feel things—good or bad—makes me seem like lifeless. It’s like I exist, but I don’t live.

I worked so hard to get where I am now, and I wanted this so badly—not caring for other people, not even the ones close to me. I wished to be the one who cares less after being the one who cares more. I longed to know how it feels.

Honestly, I’ve always thought that being the one who cares less is fun like I’d feel all jubilant not worrying of replying to messages or returning calls. But it turns out, it isn’t the case. Yes, I don’t feel as pained as I used to, but neither do I feel happy (at least genuinely) as well. It’s like I still have to force myself to feel things.

I don’t regret building walls around my frozen heart because at least I learned that caring less isn’t any enjoyable. It is, in fact, worse than caring more.

Now, I slowly shatter the walls for my heart to melt. I give more time and love to people around without asking or expecting anything in return. I realized it’s better to feel everything at once than not to feel anything at all.