Away a Martyr

We are martyrs, aren't we? 


People always, at least once in their lives, have submitted themselves to someone or something despite having to take all the hardships and getting nothing for themselves. Still, somehow, they chose to stay and waste a handful of their time to someone they wished they could walk side by side for the rest of their lives but instead time and efforts spent on being shadows alone. 


But we don't always have to walk behind someone to be called a martyr. I, for one, consider myself a martyr. I am not on a race now. I am not even chasing anyone. I'm actually walking, almost dragging myself, to the opposite direction. We always have a choice and this time I chose to walk away. But walking away doesn't make me free of my suffering. It was ten times worse than what I went through when I was still an inch behind that person. Maybe that's another reason why it took me a long time to finally have enough strength for me to start heading on the other direction: I knew back then that the heaviness in my chest is a lot easier to carry than the weight that I have inside of me, now that his presence is nothing but a bitter-sweet memory playing over and over inside my head. Thus, I am still a martyr.