Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Crash, burn and trudge along

It's been 4 months since the last nail on the coffin was hammered. And life has moved ahead at lightening speed. The health scares, the impulsive & rash decisions, the burning feeling that eats me inside out. Yet not once has the heart even felt upset for the one the heart loves and longs despite the wrongs done.

I know life has moved on for the one the heart longs for and the heart can't but be happy for him. Yet somewhere it has pushed me to be rash, giving rise to experiences that brands a new wound on my skin every time. Attempts to be happy, to just see the happier & brighter side is constant, sometimes it's natural sometimes the fake smiles brings forth the sudden tears.

So this is how it feels living a hollow existence feels?! I feel guilty and horrible for leading a dual existence! I shudder to think that this is for life! Should I feel sorry for my pretentious life and attempts to be happy while burning inside or should I feel guilty of not really giving my all to the one who has been a source of support! I'm doing exactly what I've detested, what I have been subject to before! I try to do things differently, I go halfway, falter and then try harder, the hurt hurting some more. I pray that this becomes life, I try to uncry those tears, I try to not compare everything to him, I try to forget but I'm reduced to a me I don't recognise anymore.

I tell myself that many like me lead such a life but I hate the stench of disloyalty! When those angry tears roll down my face I'm just grateful for the darkness that masks my face. Sometimes I'm grateful for the affection that comes my way it makes me forget the void of loneliness even if momentarily.

I'm happy that he is happy and I wonder at myself for being capable of so much love still.. It breaks me. Funny how love that burns me alive, is the same love that shimmers without a trace and it is also the source of all things that is so wrong with my life.

While I battle out illness, new life, the facades that I now live; there is a prayer which is almost a plea for it stop hurting, stop the love and stop the longing. Till then I keep trudging, because that is what is expected of me. So what happens to what I want? Who am I anyway?