Dandelion

I’m not sure if I can be myself anywhere any more.

I don’t have that freedom anymore.

The freedom that you gave me.

Everywhere I go, I am like a dandelion between beautifully blooming red velvet roses. I never stay.

I never meant to leave you, though.

With you, I could be myself. With a sad face, dry joke, sharp tongue and my sarcastic remarks. I could be myself and you never minded it.

I loved you for that, and I hate you for that right now. Just because no one else allows it.

And I miss it so badly. Every day.

And I hate myself because I cannot come back to where I was, and I cannot appreciate what I have right now.

I am on a hamster wheel made of my memories and photographs of your face, and I simply cannot step down.

Constant running makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me exhausted.

I wish I could come back to my life where there was no you in it. So that I would have never found out what I am. Coz, really, what was the point if it was brutally taken away from me?

Quicker

Do you sometimes wonder what your life would be like without people?

I often think it would be better.

I’m not talking about being the only human on the planet because that would be boring.

I am talking about solitude so deep and heavy that you don’t allow people to come closer, when you live just next to them.

Imagine a life where you do whatever you want whenever you want without justifying yourself to others. When the words you say don’t reach your heart, when your eyes show nothing but carelessness so lightly resting on your forehead.

There would be no expectations, no attachments, no liking. So that, you can easily walk away whenever you want.

Imagine a life when you have only yourself as company.

There’s no way I can live on this earth without turning my heart into stone.

Please don’t let me hide anymore, even though I want it so badly.

You probably call me a lunatic, a contradiction, a paradox.

Living without people would be easier, but the truth is that’s not at all what I want. In fact, I want the exact opposite. I crave meaningful connections with people. Not jibber jabber. Words have a meaning. Words have power. Don’t just spit them out.

The thing is, most people don’t care whom they speak to, they speak only to fill the silence with speaking. It pains me a lot because it almost always means that I was just a random person amongst the crowd.

There’s no point in remembering the conversation that we had, no point in getting attached to you, no point in getting attached to the place I wished to call home. The words that you toss so easily, they will float away from us, so that we could forget quicker.

It’s because I was hurt so deeply, I’m ashamed to admit it even to myself. How can I say it out loud without acknowledging the fissures in my flesh, without acknowledging the slimy blood covering my hands.