Surprised at the frequency? Join the club.
I've always been terribly impulsive. But in a detached way. As in, I take full responsibility of my actions and their consequences, but I'm blissfully unaffected by them. I'd become cold blooded and insensitive and my life soon became a very easy one to live...even if quite empty.
I trusted no one, which was quite unfortunate because too many people trusted me. I know I should have been burdened by that weight but the shameless truth is that I'd thrown away all that baggage as soon as I received it.
It had been a while since I missed anyone. Abscence, however long, didn't affect me. I'd taught myself to live without anyone and I did want people to be less dependent on me too. No expectations to fulfill, either way. Good life.
Bad news, bad days, bad actions- they stirred up no ill feelings in me. I found myself being very objective and detached to events in my life, which was pretty cool. Yes, there were days when I was cold, lonely and starving for some emotion, some love, but most of the time I just let them pass. The times I didn't...well they soon became yesterday.
I was becoming resistant to pain. Ok, if not resistant, atleast used to it. I found that I could swallow it no sooner than when it threatened to bubble up. No no, there isn't any "residual pain" or anything sedimented within me, releasing its toxic vapours bit by bit. So wipe that "I feel so sorry for you" expression off your face. All these were my choices, and I'm proud of them.
So as I was saying, I didn't feel its enormity weighing me down or slowing me when I run too fast. In fact, I'd become pretty oblivious to its existence. If it is even there, that is.
And then suddenly everything changed.
It's like waking up from a dream. A dream where everything was perfect, happy and so easy.. a dream where you're already dressed and leaving for college and then AARGH! your alarm clock rings and reminds you that not only are you late to college, you still have to get up and get ready.
I woke up from that dream today. Luckily there wasn't any hurry to go any place.. and there wasn't a necessity for me to wake up. In fact, I can go back to sleep now.
Do I choose to? I don't know myself.
When a heart breaks it doesn't break even and I've unfortunately been at the more generous end. And now that my heart is whole and healing again (sutures are drying, thank god) I don't want to give any more. I don't want to be Miss-Charity-let's-work-things-out.
I mean...I KNOW what's bad for me! And I KNOW I can avoid it! So wouldn't the smart thing to do be to avoid it?
I'm not afraid of love. It's a fun thing. Waking up knowing that however bad your day might be, there's always someone who brightens it up.... phone conversations while simultaneously finishing your homework, assignments and record work.... talking to someone until you fall asleep so that you're not afraid to sleep alone... laughing so hard your stomach hurts.... good stuff.
What I am afraid of is loving, completely, hopelessly, blindly and madly. Why? Because I'm already complete and I don't want to be hopeless, blind or mad. Nooo thank you.
I mean...WHY? What is the necessity to get into a situation when you NEED someone? Nobody needs anyone except themselves, for God's sake! Putting your every breath, spirit and essence into something that holds some promise but no concreteness is not my idea of a good decision. Yeah, you're going to say it's me who has to lay the concrete...but I'm exhausted! I've laid (and removed, with much difficulty) enough concrete to last me a lifetime. Just that familiar smell of concrete love and commitment is enough to make me tremble. What? Yeah, I'm afraid of commitment. In my defence, I'd like to say that this is recent, and a while back I was considered a very commitment-person.
SO. Where is this monologue heading? Nowhere. I just wanted to vent, thanks for listening :)
I REALLY want to sleep!! But I'm unable to switch off the damn alarm!
-------------------------------
What do you do with 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife?
No comments:
Post a Comment