It’s quiet. Unnaturally quiet, suggesting a lack of medium. Two entities present seem unbothered, however, their concentration absorbed by something else entirely. They don’t stand, they don’t float. They have a face, expressionless and utterly calm, though it is near impossible to make out. Colors represent each individual, confetti-like sparks and ribbons gathered inside or around their being.
"What went wrong?"
– "Nothing went wrong. Things came to pass as they do. Nothing was taken from you, you were only given."
– "Yet still something was damaged in the process, I can feel it. It seems… beyond repair. So much lost."
– "Nothing lost, only gained, my son. These happenstances only give. Your greed blinds you, you demand more from a source that can give no more."
– "Is that why it broke? Because I asked too much from it?"
– "No. It never broke, it ran out. At this moment, the dry source has become something else, and has joined the vastness of such deeply regretted warmth."
– "Like death."
– "Like death, but not the same. Do not bother to ask for differences, they are too numerous and you already know what you need to."
– "Can it ever be repaired? Could I ever receive what I ask, again? Will it work as it used to?"
– "No. The only option is a comparable state, never undamaged, or as plentiful."
– "A comparable state."
– "Do not pity yourself, son. You may some day regret it terribly."
– "You speak of regret as if you concider it inevitable. …Will I make it that far, even? Will I still be standing?"
– "Of course you will. As you are known to state in your slumber, ‘The best moments of your life were spent on your knees’."
– "That is a lie, and you know it. It is a joke. Wishful thinking. Self-redicularisation. Sarcasm."
– "It is not. It is a deeper understanding of your emotional state. The only humor is your unawareness of this. Blindly you walk your path without stumbling."
– "If anyone would know this, it would be you, wouldn’t it. I will concider this a compliment, with a lack of comprehension."
– "I am as ignorant as you are, son. I cannot see any more into the future than you can. But I know you, as well as you know yourself. And from this I can tell, you will live, in which ever state. If you would only look where I am pointing, you could see the confidence growing as we speak. You are arrogant, my son, but not unforgivably so.
– "…I’m afraid."
– "Unfounded fear. The singular essence to fear is that which is given to you. By us. Instead of gratitude, you give us arrogance, demanding control. And still, you are afraid to be given. Afraid to take. Afraid to ask for more."
– "I will be denied."
– "A pessimistic view, which blocks progress. You know this, from experience. The only control we allow is prayer. A request, nothing more."
– "I want it. Badly. What I have will not be enough."
– "Amusing attempt, son. However it does not qualify as a prayer. You know better."
– "There’s… Too much at stake, too much to lose. I need my faith strengthened before risking all this."
– "Faith is something only two beings can help you with… ‘It sucks to be you’, son."
– "That’s my line."
– "I am aware. Now go."
Love is giving someone the power to hurt you terribly
…And hoping they don’t.
And we never trust anyone as easily as we did the first time.
Some quotes are better left unquoted, and yet it is so hard to allow self-pity to go ignored. Self-pity is a meta-feeling. After a while you feel bad because you feel bad, something, in turn, reminds me of my ex. So what you get is a three, possibly four-dimensional vicious circle that cuts on all 17 edges, despite that being a prime number. And it cuts deep.
So yeah, I’m starting to see the humor in it. But that was never a problem, for me. Cynism does not exclude self-ridiculisation, in fact they go hand in hand. As long as you don’t actually believe what you are saying, or you will soon sound like a fat girl telling you with a serious face that she is fat. And don’t you dare agree, or they will cry because now they think they are fat.
I had a very insightful discussion with a friend the other day, who claims that you should get used to being single before you get into a relationship, or you will cling on to someone for all the wrong reasons. And though I disagreed like I always do, she had a very good point. I for one, am still hoping for anyone to declare their love for me just to feed my ego, because I can’t do it on my own. Like I said, it’s very hard not to believe that you are worthless, if there is no one around saying that you aren’t. Maybe that’s a personal problem, which I had assumed was generally true for everyone. Of course, we all need our ego to survive, but I’ve noticed that it has become less fragile and can go further with less pointless compliments.
In other words, I’m facing forward. Getting used to the single life, although that still striked me as terribly sad. I’m taking care of myself again, showing some spine. I even took two days off after working non-stop for two weeks, which end in 10 minutes. Speaking of which, that makes it almost midnight and I have to get up at 5. As much as the first day I had to sleep with the knowledge that she will never share my bed again, I resent going to sleep. I’ve been sleeping horribly too, so in order to avoid laying awake, I wait until the very last possible moment. This doesn’t help my mood, the next day.
I used to love those moments, they allowed me to let my mind roam and let creativity come to me in whatever I was undertaking. I could go to sleep with something in mind, and wake up with a whole array of ideas. Wether it were presents for her birthday (too bad my time-lapse fountain never worked), or ideas for stencils or items to be created on RoP. Nowadays I would bang my head against the wall to get those fucking memories to shut up and my eyes to stay closed for the night.
I’ve never been alone in my life. Sure, lonely plenty of times, but never really on my own. It brands you, and leaves a feeling that lasts even as you’re among friends or colleagues. People pass and talk to you, but you’re walking the line, alone. I remember someone once saying that when we’re in love, we’re at our true capacity. That loneliness is a sort of "lesser state" we’re in. Of course, taking things for granted, I rolled my eyes and discarded it as yet another pinkish, meaningless overgeneralization about that feeling no one can seem to shut the hell up about. Right now I have to revise my opinion. Is this really what an individual is built for, this upright core that positions one foot in front of the other, and gets by? Or are we truely made to share our destinies? It would differ from one person to the next I guess, and that changes the question. Am I made to be alone? When could I possibly answer this question objectively?
I’m a loner, always have been. I have few friends, and I don’t belong in 99% of the places I visit. I ignored my girlfriend until she fucked someone else instead, not to mention her family. My own family, even. You won’t hear from me until you ask, and then my response comes so naturally that you wonder if I am being sarcastic, and actually want to be left alone. On that note: No. I genuinely enjoy company.
So here we are, with a clean slate. Whatever masterpiece I had has faded beyond recognition, and any new friends will possibly never know the girl that was once my soulmate. They will only hear me grumble about "my ex" from time to time, discaring it a the heartbreak that we all had to endure in our own time. We’re all scarred.