when we are all raindrops - II

There was one afternoon a few months back, I was in the library, trying to focus on getting a report done. But in the broken state I was in at that time, all I ended up doing was just choking back tears. Pushing back all those toxic emotions.

I took a walk, ended up in a cafe nearby. Window seat. Just watching people. Scribbling in my trusty notebook. 

I wrote about having a vacuum in me. There was this stillness in me. A silence that scared me. It wasn't the peaceful sort of silence. It was a heavy, vacant, suffocating space. The silence you would encounter at that moment when you've emptied a home you've had fond memories in. Looking around at the blank walls, memories taking you back to what was, reality reminding you of what is. 

But at that time, I couldn't find the words. I was too calm about everything. Can I even call it calm? It was more of being void of emotion. Despite the deadlines and the magnitude of work which had to be done, I just was not flustered. Stress? Barely. Worried? Yes, kinda. So.. Relaxed? No, not at all. My mind was a battlefield and my heart took the bullets. It was like my whole being was transported to another place and time and I was watching everything happen around me like a movie, I was not part of it at all. 

It made me sad. I just wanted to feel again. To taste life again. I was trying to mask the vacuum. What was this vacuum? I didn't like it. Thoughts start swirling through me, of what used to fill the space. And how much of it is now gone. How the one virtue we all believed in - love - is not enough. It is important. But it is not all. Not mortal love, at least. It sounds cold. But that was what was served to me. Almost mocking me. 

I just wanted time to myself. I needed it. Do I want what I used to have? You mean to be loved and wanted and to be able to give that back? Yes. But do I want to go back to the past? No. I've been running on an emotional treadmill. It's time to stop and catch my breath, catch myself, love myself. To do what I love, and love will find its way to me. If it's gonna take the whole of summer to do that, then so be it. 

Looking around, I'm not the only one. Everyone's going through sufferings of their own. It comforts me to know someone understands but it makes me sad to see another struggle to endure the same pain. My friend, your eyes give it all away. 

Late night conversations. All the different faces at that old wooden table. Cups of coffee and plates of crispy spring rolls. All the unhappiness we share. Personalities, backgrounds, all so different, but we all go through the same essential things.  

I can never be comfortable with giving advice, I'm not the best person for that. But I can share my opinions, my thoughts - things that move me. And hope that in my clumsy speech, they look past my sharp tongue and careless ways and find a glimmer of comfort - that I'm a friend, not the best one, but if you need to know, you're not alone.