So.. Here we go again. Another year. Another number. Another series of events, anticipated or not. Another step towards the end. Of what? Everything, isn't it?
It honestly didn't feel like a whole new year to me. Didn't see the whole 'fresh start' or 'new leaf' thing at all. Perhaps it's because I've always felt like I'm still in some sort of transition. Towards adulthood. Towards maturity. Towards detachment? Towards solitude? I guess it makes sense for me to say that I'm lonely now. I used to think that it would be foolish or childish of me to think that way, and that's how I always fought off the feeling of loneliness that came with adolescence - with the notion that it was just me being silly and immature. Perhaps I've seen enough, or been exposed enough, to realize that it has always been staring right back at me, in my face screaming for some sort of action on my part to rid it, acknowledge it, do something, anything about it than to ignore it. I'm extremely used to, and accustomed to doing things alone. You could almost say that I live alone. I wake up to hardly anyone on most days. I travel with nobody most journeys. I shop alone. For anything and everything. I eat alone with my helper at least one meal a day, if I have a proper meal. I lie in bed and read by myself. I lie in bed and sing the songs to myself. I sit in classes alone. I text nobody at most times. My phone can go an entire day (maybe even two, or more) without a single alert of any kind. Sometimes I wonder how and why I started baking and cooking so actively. Yes, I've always wanted to learn. But gradually with time, I guess it became a desire to be appreciated. And I guess that's what loneliness brings you - the desire to be appreciated for what you do, even if not for who you are. That explains why some guys can be so desperate for companionship sometimes, isn't it? It doesn't matter who it is, as long as the deed is done. It's sad, but true. It's the kind of thing that you can confess out loud to anyone and everyone, but the emotion that stems the strongest from it is not shame, but empathy. Because it's a feeling that nobody can help with. It's not a bad thing, it's not a good thing, it's just a thing.
I wanted to bake some cupcakes the other day, after my first batch of muffins turned out a little too bland. As I was walking down the aisle of the supermarket all I could think about was how much ingredients I should buy. The second thought was that why should I worry? Just bake according to the recipe of course! But then again, the recipe serves 6. Then it hit me that, you know, I don't have 6 people around me to bake for. I have many friends who love me, but they also love a lot of other people. Of course, that shouldn't stop me from doing so. But the point here isn't about baking, the bigger picture is something else. It's hard to explain this feeling when it hits you. I'm not trying to pity myself here, but I believe I've been living this way long enough for me to talk about it without any sort of (or at least overwhelming) emotional bias. Bluntly put, it's knowing that when you die, everyone will be standing in front of your coffin with somebody else, but nobody will be standing beside you.
To be dead honest, I am an emotional wreck. I am so broken in more ways than one. I am also picky as hell with certain things. I sleep too much. I am extremely unmotivated and find no purpose in doing most things that people do "for their own good." If any, most of the reasons why I do the things I do are merely temporal and for some short of short-term satisfaction of my own, or to make people around me happy. I never complain about that though. I'm always ready and willing to put in my part, to go an extra mile to put a smile on a loved one's face. I guess what I'm trying to say is that being lonely is way beyond a feeling. It's a lifestyle. It's a state of mind. It's a perpetual mood. I don't think I'm ready for a new relationship anytime soon. All those games that people play, all those ice-breaker long talks, all that pushing and pulling, all that flirting and all those long walks. Yes, even with friendships. I try but I always step after awhile. I can't even bring myself to rekindle old ties. It's just not working. Why can't we keep things simple? Why can't we just be friends, or just be lovers? Why does it always have to come with a whole pack of other questions and worries? Can't it just be? I would understand why nobody wants to be around me for too long though. I'm sad. I'm a sad, sad person. And there are things about me that nobody would understand until you've been to where I've been, and that would make you equally sad and broken. And I'm tired as hell.. Really. 2012 holds nothing for me. There's nothing to look forward to. Nothing to keep me going. Nothing to push me further. Nothing to live for.
I am so tired. Tired of being. Being me is easy. Replaceable and temporal. Being me is easy. But it's killing me. I sincerely hope that when I wake up tomorrow, or if I only feel better by next week, I would come back to read this and realize how stupid and silly I was to feel this way, or write it all down here. But right at this moment, every single word is true. Every emotion is raw. And everything hurts.
