She was there…

She was online. And I felt uneasy. I am afraid talking with her, it’s all the pain that will follow. I don’t want to cry anymore. I don’t want to lie down sleepless and feel restless and heavy.

I tried to be alone, leaving her undisturbed, but it doesn’t really work that way. Does it? I don’t text her, I don’t call her, I try not to keep in touch. But I still cannot move farther away. Every morning it hurts, and it hurts like HELL.

Every morning, it feels that I am getting closer to getting over her, it all comes back again after a few days. People say, you should get busy, and that will help you getting over her by not giving you time to think about her. But strangely, I cannot even get busy with the stuff that I used to be busy with all the time.

I still keep those two bus tickets we bought on the last day I held her hand. I wish I kept better photographs of her, I took a lot of photos of her but I never preserved the good ones. Never wondered I would have to see her photographs and feel her love in my arms that once was. There was a chance to propose her for her love today, but I couldn’t do it. I don’t think this time I was afraid, maybe because I am disappointed with her.

My friend says that everyone at some part of their life wish that their situation to just go normal with an impulse. Move on? I hear that a lot. Maybe I just have to accept it. Sometimes I wonder what keeps me in pain. It’s strange that even knowing that being sad won’t make things better, I cannot be least relieved, let alone happy.

Sometimes, I think that my problem is the way I live. I am pretty much alone, I cannot really blend in society and at some point, I needed someone I could rely on with everything. When I did, she moved away, leaving me in that very miserable state. I wish I could go back to that original state where everything was normal and geeky.

Rationally, I am faced with two choices, die with the thoughts of her or move on with the life I dreamed of. But emotionally, I cannot really find that dream of mine. I just don’t know why I cannot? It’s just not there. It feels like something was but it doesn’t have that strength anymore, to move me, to motivate me. It true thinking very practically, I am wasting my precious time musing about her Love and mine and blah blah blah. But still, it’s not enough to help me.

Speaking like a classmate of mine, it’s ironic, we developed language and seeing it falling short to express the stuff that we value most. One good thing happened to me in these few months. When sometimes I realize that I am sad and I recall the reasons, I start to feel strong and say to myself, “It good to have scars, men should have few of these.”


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