The world’s been a little extra mean to me lately.
I have been pushed into situations where I was on the verge of letting go, unsteadily balancing myself on a rope that’s barely holding my weight. And the thought that this life is what I make it smashes a pit into my gut — this life is what I make it, so it is drowning in the tears that I’ve shed for the kinds of pain I didn’t deserve. Not even in the slightest. There’s only one island, and it’s because I stray away from other people’s presence, fearful that their absence might shatter me. And there are no jellyfish in this ocean, no corals that adorn the land, no colors that make it beautiful — because I’m hollow. Nothing lives in me.
And I’ve been trying to mask that nothingness in me. I’ve been trying to pretend that it doesn’t ache me that I have nothing.
In a world where only the wise and strong survive, in a city where no one knows that I’m giving up, where do I go to breathe?
Am I even allowed to breathe?
I’ve held pain that’s heavier than nothing else, yet I continued to carry it in my palms. I’ve stopped tears from coming even when I was desperate to let everyone know that I was pent up. I’ve decided against talking about it because I didn’t want anyone else to feel the weight of what I drag. Because then they’ll know I’m empty — too empty to even feel this pain destroying me.
I know I have a choice, but it often feels like I do not have the capacity to choose — that this hurt is what I should feel every single day. Because I have had nothing else but aching, and this aching is all I know. I know it all too well that I’ve learnt how to hide it.
Everyday, I’m trying my best to stay alive. I’m trying to prevent the pain from consuming me. I’m trying to carry it all by myself. I’m trying so, so hard that it feels like I’m killing myself. You do not have to understand my pain, I just want you to acknowledge it.
No one probably knows this, but I have endured and overthrown a lot. Some that almost made me waver; some that never made me stronger. But I continued to live even if I cried the night before. I continue despite feeling like I cannot.
I want to apologize to myself for carrying it all and getting used to it.
I made it all look so painless that even I couldn’t feel the pain anymore.
