It’s a harsh reality when you become all too aware of how cynical and jaded you have become. I generally prefer responding to such realizations with denial. However, recently I came face to face with a version of myself before the tragedies and winter tears.
She was 22. An angelic entity with so much to see and learn. Her young spirit strong and convicted. Her enthusiasm felt contagious. She seemed grateful for the opportunity. I saw myself in her. Her aura of innocence made her glow. I stood there listening to her and it was painful how much I saw myself in her. In my heart I said a silent prayer, 'Please let her not see what I did, let her not suffer like I did'.
Today as I took a moment to wonder why my heart felt like it had been hit by a demolition ball. I thought of how I missed being that carefree. I missed not knowing the concept of heartbreak. This morning over breakfast, I looked outside my window and remembered my little apartment back in London. I would sit on the floor over my large uncomfortable cushion, savouring the scent of incense. Contemplating about broken glass, which just like our spirit can never be fixed.
Some days feel like a breath of new life. I smile without thinking. I get a nervous pang in my gut and laugh about absolutely nothing. Then there are the 'don't-look-at-me-or-I'll-cry' days. When the past will creep its filthy claws in my eyes and I am forced to observe every last detail of the damage done. Today I wore a ring. It wasn't 'the' ring. It was just a ring. The entire day I felt suffocated looking at it, feeling the cold metal against skin, rubbing my finger tips over the bevelled and embossed edges. The stones felt alive and I felt like my life was being stripped one follicle at a time. I still have the indentation from 5 years of never taking 'the' ring off. A stark reminder of a past, I'd rather much forget.
Omar worries but I asked him I can't not date forever, can I now? Even though most of me wants to run away from the very idea, a small part of me wants to be reminded what it felt like. I made a choice to keep the past under a veil. If asked I will not lie but I'd rather discuss the dry cleaner's taxes instead. Maybe I'm not over it yet. Maybe I'm just falling into old traps. Maybe I need a saviour. Maybe I'm digging a grave for myself. Maybe I miss the way it felt. Maybe I'm indulging in pain.
Like the rest of us I too have a little sanctuary where I hide. Between worlds and hollow walls, I sit quietly and ponder on the intricacies of stardust hearts and melancholy of a past life. Lately this little sanctuary has grown but the space feels anything but empty. The problem lies in when I manage to lock myself out, with the recession, locksmith are just as expensive within the world in my head.
She was 22. An angelic entity with so much to see and learn. Her young spirit strong and convicted. Her enthusiasm felt contagious. She seemed grateful for the opportunity. I saw myself in her. Her aura of innocence made her glow. I stood there listening to her and it was painful how much I saw myself in her. In my heart I said a silent prayer, 'Please let her not see what I did, let her not suffer like I did'.
Today as I took a moment to wonder why my heart felt like it had been hit by a demolition ball. I thought of how I missed being that carefree. I missed not knowing the concept of heartbreak. This morning over breakfast, I looked outside my window and remembered my little apartment back in London. I would sit on the floor over my large uncomfortable cushion, savouring the scent of incense. Contemplating about broken glass, which just like our spirit can never be fixed.
Some days feel like a breath of new life. I smile without thinking. I get a nervous pang in my gut and laugh about absolutely nothing. Then there are the 'don't-look-at-me-or-I'll-cry' days. When the past will creep its filthy claws in my eyes and I am forced to observe every last detail of the damage done. Today I wore a ring. It wasn't 'the' ring. It was just a ring. The entire day I felt suffocated looking at it, feeling the cold metal against skin, rubbing my finger tips over the bevelled and embossed edges. The stones felt alive and I felt like my life was being stripped one follicle at a time. I still have the indentation from 5 years of never taking 'the' ring off. A stark reminder of a past, I'd rather much forget.
Omar worries but I asked him I can't not date forever, can I now? Even though most of me wants to run away from the very idea, a small part of me wants to be reminded what it felt like. I made a choice to keep the past under a veil. If asked I will not lie but I'd rather discuss the dry cleaner's taxes instead. Maybe I'm not over it yet. Maybe I'm just falling into old traps. Maybe I need a saviour. Maybe I'm digging a grave for myself. Maybe I miss the way it felt. Maybe I'm indulging in pain.
Like the rest of us I too have a little sanctuary where I hide. Between worlds and hollow walls, I sit quietly and ponder on the intricacies of stardust hearts and melancholy of a past life. Lately this little sanctuary has grown but the space feels anything but empty. The problem lies in when I manage to lock myself out, with the recession, locksmith are just as expensive within the world in my head.
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