To think that the one time my gut instinct proved right was when I suspected that I was out of the running. It's strange...when I first got a vague sense that I won't even qualify to compete, it's as though I became resigned to the fact. Surely it was a defense mechanism, this strange apathy, this unsurmising callousness.
Because all the intensity I had felt over this, when I realised that there was hardly any chance that it will be reciprocated, I immediate withdrew upon the well-built fortress of my mind, constructed with logic, strengthened by rationality. It was a response I am too familiar with...to distance myself and intellectualise the emotional part of me...to chastise it so that I mold myself to the rules of logic and thereby, rendering the injury to my fragile sense to its minimum.
And it worked of, of course. Intellect and logic are great things. They can kill, suffocate, numb one's emotional sensitivity. I know now for sure that I have lost, but I am able to joke about it, to feel detached from the repercussions that should have accompanied this blow. But I am fine, thanks to my wretched rationality. Ah, how ironical that the thing that is protecting me is also my biggest liability...but for now, I shall give it appreciation, for saving my soul from a cut.
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