Two stories over the past few days - one real life (K n V) and one semi real (gangster) - propel me to feel the pain our demons inflict on love...and think about it.
Can we ever escape them? Or do they just become dormant after some time? Can they be overcome? As a romantic, I would like to believe that pure love supplies the strength to do so. But how many believe that? Its essentially our belief that drives us to survive. And how many recognise it? We spend our lives in relatioships with people who cannot provide (for want of a better word) us the strength and growth we need to defeat the demons; and ignore, for blinkered reasons, the ones who have the potential to.
These demons exist within us - the baggage and the history; the blinkers and the crisis of faith - and we end up becoming our worst enemy. Clutching to us what we want and driving away what we need.
This rational conclusion doesn't prevent me from feeling the pain; from crying at the pain of others; from laughing at the traps I knowingly step into; from clutching my body with the sheer effort it takes to just believe; from feeling helpless as I watch loved ones battle their demons, knowing that I have the answer but it's of no use unless they find it themselves.
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