This life I’m living, it seems not to be mine. It hasn’t felt like my life for many years now.
Some things have changed in my life lately, but some have stayed the same. Maybe I’m a little bit closer to find myself.
Sometimes I live in the past, though. I miss the friends I used to have. I want to go to the places that I used to go to. I keep seeking the books that I used to hold in my hands. Except, this all is long gone.
I want so badly to get out of that maze. I want to get all the things that belong to me. Catch the wind in my backpack. Stain my favourite jeans with the ink of my wounds. Read the words aloud. Tell the whole world about scars marring my skin.
I watch from afar and envy lives that I’ll never possess. Such a waste of time. I watch from afar, jealous of men that I’ll never want.
When you love someone… How can you be sure that they love you back? Trust. You can’t follow them everywhere they go. You can’t forbid them to speak to other people. You can’t control them. You can’t make them love you.
I am a jealous woman. Why? Maybe because I was abandoned when I was a child. Maybe because I’ve never felt pretty. Pretty and feminine enough to be a damsel in distress for all the men who constantly want to feel useful in society. There is always someone better than you.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly alright on my own. Still, there comes the attraction and suddenly you find yourself lost in an ocean, with water filling your lungs. And you know… you’re sure that the water is deathly for you cannot breathe.
Knowing that you cannot swim and never will you be able to, you sink in it. Further and further away from the blue skies above you. And you don’t grab that chance waiting for you, until it’s too late and the only thing you can do is to collect shells from the bottom of your broken soul.
I’m sat now, crying. Jealousy and bitterness running down my spine. Will I ever touch his face?
I usually don’t care whether people like me or not. I don’t make friends with many of them. They come and go, only making you miss them.
However, there are certain people in your life whom you like and whose opinion matters to you. Then comes the fear that they might not like you back and you’re trying so much to be the best version of yourself. You want to be funny, cool and nonchalant only to be liked by that person.
But I have to be honest with myself. These people who speak to me a lot, they also speak a lot to others the same way. They don’t speak to you because they want to form a bond with you, but because it’s the way they are. They are nice to everyone, they talk to everyone but they really like no one.
I am a quiet person and I’ve been caught in that trap many times. I talk to chatty people because they talk to me, and then I feel that they are special to me. But you… you are nothing to them. Just another talking mouth.
You were right there. Looking exactly the same like yesterday. Being exactly the same person as yesterday. At least, I thought so.
I approached you and asked if the new job you were doing was more interesting, better than the one you used to do with me.
Suddenly, the sky cracked, and you said words I couldn’t understand. I forgot we weren’t really friends.
Only then did I realise that you belonged to another dimension.
You belong to a world where the stars are fading where the rain is burning your skin where the sunrises are alone and blue where the snow is covering you with shame where the only thing you want are numbers
It happened. Officially, I’ve become one of potatoes.
I’ve got what I asked for, what I wanted. Partially, at least.
How do I find it?
I just wanted to be independent and live the way I wanted. Earning money, though, has taken up all my time. I’ve been stolen the hours that I’d been putting aside all my life. What do we even need money for?
Where am I in all this?
Leaving at dawn, coming back at dusk I’ve lost myself in the time week after week it’s playing tricks on me and I’m too tired to say ‘good morning’ rotting in bed for long hours.
Some time ago I set myself a goal. I’d been so certain about it, about what I wanted. Everything had gone wrong, though, and I was still hanging tightly on that perfectly written song, I did not allow to make it happen. I stepped back because I was afraid that everything would fell apart. And then it did.
Now I know that I’ll never get rid of fear and insecurity. I have to move forward no matter what.
Walking along the paths of my broken dreams, I’ve felt lonely. I felt like I needed someone next to me. Just to hold me. That’s all…
Even though I was always lost and always alone with my thoughts, I enjoyed my solitude. I’ve been on my own since I remember. I don’t mind it. I am my own best friend.
But lately… I wished some company. Someone I could watch the sunrises with. Someone I could hug with on the sofa while watching a movie.
I’m sitting on the kitchen floor, listening to the water drops dripping from the tap, and I’m thinking whether they already know or not.
Have they found out this evening? Do they really give it a second thought or they’re too busy with their own lives?
People who know you for many years, like your family and friends, they already know what you are, so being with them you can simply be you. But people who you’ve met recently, they know nothing about you. Therefore, being around them is more difficult because you don’t really know how to be… you.
There is too many questions, too many talks, too many odd looks, too much lack of understanding.
I know I am different, I can see that, I cannot explain that. But also I don’t want to change that. Force myself to fit in.
The other day I watched a movie called ‘The Milk of Sorrow’. Sad and dramatic as it was, it somehow explained something that was happening in my life.
Even though my mother told me that she wanted to have another baby [me], I found it hard to believe that this was true. Feeling, what I’ve been feeling for all those years, I still hardly believe it.
I’ve always felt unwanted.
It didn’t matter what people said about me. Good daughter, loyal friend, diligent student. I’ve always felt like I wasn’t supposed to be here. Being around all those happy people, brought me down even more. To the point where the only thing I want to do is to pick flowers in heaven.
Tell me, Mother.
Bitter have I become, drinking the milk of sorrow.