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Many times the past appears irresistibly alluring that I feel like sinking back to that particular period of time.
I believe it's because we tend to vividly remember the good times much more, compared to the bitter ones.
And just when I have the urge to compromise again, the past scars begin to burn.
They hurt excruciatingly at that very moment, maybe it's some sort of a defence mechanism that prevents me from making the similar mistakes again.
The past constantly graps onto me tightly, not letting me go without a fight.
Sometimes I'm the one holding onto to it, I'm the one that refuses to let it go.
At times I'm too tired to resist it any longer, I'd rather just fall into it's pit and be trapped there forever.
How weary I may be, how hopeless I may feel and how unwilling I can be; there's always a trace of hope that lingers deep within my soul, which provides me with just the right amount of strength - that I may continue to move forward.