cold

It took a junkie to make me see how I have become a cold, heartless, bastard. well, I’m sure it was just his desperate attempt to shield himself from my ruthless and self-righteous judgments on how he wasted his life and how he ruined others in the process. but I tell you, when he told me that he feels more sorry for me than for himself; it pierced right through the very core of my being or whatever is left in it.

That line haunted me for days. It kept running in my mind over and over again like a broken record and every time it bothers me I would always try to convince myself that what I did was just called for. He showed no remorse for the poor choices he did so he had to be told how selfish he has become. What I did was tough love, but love nonetheless. Any true friend would do what I did.

And yet, it still eats me inside out. Have I become really cold? Heartless even? Here comes a friend, who ran away from his hell to take refuge in my friendship, and here I was, with all my righteous philosophies in life, could not even extend a warm hand. I mean of all people who knows how giving 2nd chances in life mean, I should be the 1st to attest how it changed mine. And yet, I was the first one to throw the stone. Doesn’t that put me into deeper sh*t than where he is? Sadly so.

I have always believed that compassion defines one’s character above all things. I just hope I still have a chance to redefine myself.