As I stood at my usual spot whenever I need some space to myself, words overwhelmed me.
Words that used to come easily to me, whenever I need to liberate the thoughts within me. Words that give form to the quirky perspectives which I wish could somehow bring me closer to finding myself.
As I root myself before my monitor now, I can’t seem to recall anything.
It was barely 5 minutes ago.
What a start to the week. Maybe the dreary Monday did get to me afterall.
It pretty much illustrates how successful I have been at detaching myself from my reality, and blocking out the one solace I used to seek.
I used to see beauty in the littlest things, giving each and every memory a form of its own, filling it with hues of sentiments, just to remember how alive I once was.
Things and people used to mean so much to me. So much so that I held them delicately in my hands, cooing over how they settled snugly in a corner of my heart as I admired each and every details on them just so I don’t ever forget.
With age, I am not sure if it is wisdom I gained, or just sheer jadedness from rich disappointments, it occurs to me that it was just naivety on my part.
You never know when is a streak of boredom cloaked in a gesture of sweetness, when is something special to you is just something borrowed, when is a kiss on a forehead a mass-manufactured act of affection, when is a genuine friendship to you just a game to another, or when the words you held dearly to are replicated by iPhone’s brilliant function of Copy+Paste.
Same stories. Different people.
So, I stopped believing at some point.
But yet, being the contradictory me, I still believe in pinkie promises. Much more so than any “This I promise you…”.
I guess, putting myself out there has once again reminded me why I felt a need to shy away. People, and things are just not what they seem. Sometimes, they let the excuses they found for themselves to define who they are, and I have learnt how to find excuses for them just so it would lessen the disappointments they bring.
And the perfect excuse is none other than: Never enough.
I am not perfect. In fact I am the most flawed individual I have ever known, yet I don’t think it is much to ask of to be enough.. for once.
Yet some things I settle for, I have no doubt that I probably deserve better.
Contradiction there, isn’t it?
This private space of mine has seen me through over a decade of changes. Of life. Of growing up (maybe not much). Of tears. Of joy. Of achievements. Of failures. Of lust. Of needs. Of wants. Of heartbreaks. Of people. Of fleeting moments that once mattered.
In the past year, I probably had experienced countless episodes of such moments that deserve a mention, encountered various people who might have taught me more about life than I could ever imagine, and had my faith in myself trialed in more ways than one.
Work, was a big revelation.
I surprise myself with my ever-expanding threshold, while shoving my principles out of the windows. I can’t blame them for grasping dearly to my esteem in their feeble attempt for survival in their final moments, and when that failed, they plunged all the way down to ground zero, with it clenched tightly in their hands. And then. Crash and burn.
But we all know the ending to stories like this, don’t we?
That I will end up resenting the person I allow myself to be.
There is something about liberating yourself to be who you are, to be vulnerable, yet that could be fatal when you allow someone near enough to hurt you irrevocably.
Rather strange, I must say, to look through pages and pages of words, only to feel a sense of curiosity, of the person I once was.
This sense of detachment is rather peculiar.
I remember at a recent gathering with a couple of good friends where we sat around and they asked the questions they always wanted to ask. I replied candidly and they remarked how I was like relating a story of someone else, and I was even laughing at the most painful parts of the stories while they winced uncomfortably.
Maybe I am still the same person, rejected by the very me at this moment.
Whatever we need to do to get through the day, no?
There is some sort of finality to this, and honestly, I feel kinda relieved, with a load off my shoulders.
Maybe there is a change round the corner.
Maybe there is something I will come to terms with and I will learn to live in the moment.
Or maybe, I will finally find moments I can proudly say, are exclusively, mine. Without games, without the need to fight for anything, without self-doubt. And I can still be myself.
I have much more to say, but somehow the alter-ego in me is refusing to let the weakling in me out to play, so once again, an abrupt ending.
Like the way, I end things in life abruptly.
And then, I kick asses, when you least expect me to.