The autopilot state worked for longer than I thought. I was expecting it to last for a couple of months at last, but here I am hiding behind my numbness for more than a month and a half. I feel lonely, worthless and ridiculous. I became the void that consumed every feeling and I became the echoes of my whining and i became the boredom of those who used to listen to my story. I blamed you for everything. I demonized you, and piled up every negative trait on your beautiful character. But I was deceiving myself and nothing worked, neither blaming you nor hating you and not even hating myself. What did my words convey? Nothing…. Vulnerability? Maybe. Longing? Maybe. Despair? Maybe. My words have been weakened by all what I have been through, my endless journey of denial. Denying that I loved you, then denying that I betrayed that love, and then denying that nothing in my life was alright. I dealt with the whole story in a foolish way, and now after all these months, I feel disoriented, totally out of place. My whole surroundings seem familiar but they don’t feel as home, I started to see the defects of my friends and family. Their defects are magnifying everyday, and mine are too. The world has to come to an end, as that melancholic feeling is killing me. Maybe it’s not melancholic, it seems to be real and pure depression. The doctors called it stress and anxiety that were translated into colorful scans, thick reports and endless prescriptions. Could not tell any of them about that continuous bitterness in my tongue, or that haunting sensation that there is no hope whatsoever, but which doctor will understand this. The psychiatrist ordered me to write everything, every single thing, he repeated this while sneaking at his mobile to make sure that he will have a few minutes for a cigarette before meeting the next desperate soul. Writing? What else should I write?
The funky modern day gurus of Instagram keep mentioning the balance between the “ body, mind and soul”, I believed them, only when I realized that I destroyed my “body, mind and soul”. The mood swings stopped occurring, as now I’m in a continuous state of pretending, pretending that I’m busy, that I’m tired, that I’m worried, that I have a migraine attack, that I overslept or I didn’t sleep at all. Lies are easily stitched to other lies and I’m lost in the doodles that I have naively created. Maybe there are some moments where I swing between empathy and indifference, for a few moments or hours I feel the pain of every human being before returning back to my dead status, where all the good things were history. In one of my sleepless nights I realized that my one-sided love story is not that different from ( the little mermaid), I didn’t give away my voice, but I gave away my soul, and my will and hope for happiness, and my appreciation of beauty. I’m a carcass moving around, sometimes slowly, sometimes noisy and always moving in an awkward way. I became ill tempered, pessimistic and dull. Will I meet you with a hysterical smile, or will I successfully hide my wounds? Will we ever meet again? I still dream of that moment when I scream at you saying that I love you and that you loved me. You loved me first and you loved me genuinely and you loved me deeply. I’ll keep screaming till you confess, till you nod, tell you repeat the yeses and maybe I’ll keep screaming till you cry. I stopped crying and it’s painful. I don’t know when exactly did I loose myself while loving you, how did I completely surrender to these vague tides of you, it’s not your fault anyway. I was bound to such ungraceful collapse, and your love just caressed me tenderly, yet this touch was enough for me to crumble.
