“Lekin, this will make you look daaark!” She whispered the last word as if it was an oath and she was an 8 year old child. I was bemused.
I wake up with a jerk just as my door opens and an old woman walks into my room. She looks at me for a couple of minutes. I stare back, my mouth dry, my heart fluttering, trying to escape.
There’s no future time to accomplish things and get goals done – it’s basically right now. Right now is all we have, so don’t nap.
They adopt a certain paternally forbearing attitude towards new (young) female employees, all the while checking them out head to toe. Oh, I added the (most) earlier because I didn’t want to wake up to a tinny chorus of “not ALL men!” in the morning.
Strangers, strangers everywhere, and the dulcet tunes of The Weeknd in my ear: what a way to live.
Now that I have no way of actually speaking to you, let me speak to you. Let me talk to you for a little while. Why don’t you make yourself a cup of coffee – even though it makes you sick – and settle in. This might take a bit of time.
Understand that loneliness is not the absence of people. It is just absence. It is feeling like you have a pit where your stomach used to be, a well that keeps on sucking in any small moments of light and air that you might experience. Loneliness is greedy and it is selfish and it does not let up.
Relationships, especially modern long term relationships, are as difficult as they are gratifying. Yes, you get the fabulous experience of always having someone to rely on and talk to and what’s more, they’re yours and isn’t that great? But then there are more insidious effects: you become so used to talking to them and relying on them and being around them, that when it ends, you’re left standing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Everyone feels this, and everyone pretends they didn’t. For a split second, life stops. I see you, you see me; we take in each other: eyelashes, sunshine like crystal shattered in our eyes, frozen dust motes suspended in the air around us.
Gabriel, 25, from Spain loves to read obscure German novels but Andrew, 24, from Canada writes complex and tragic haiku! However will you choose?
To you who doesn’t know how to love, and to you who effortlessly takes me for granted, oh, and to you who doesn’t even see me. To all of you, adieu.
Remember when I called you crying? And I said I’d had it: fuck the internship, fuck my degree, I’m coming home! You listened and then you told me to keep my head high. You told me I was better than the stupid anxiety, the isolation and the fear.