Monday, September 1, 2014

Goodbye Sad Songs and Isolated Islands

My iPod and book JUST got stolen. My almost 10-year old iPod and my friend's (whoops. SORRY!) mangled copy of The Lord of the Flies JUST got stolen. My two bestfriends during my commute every morning and night. Now gone.

Every morning, I listen to my iPod to drown all the thoughts in my head. Thoughts that make me feel like a zombie again. They say time heals everything. It's been quite a while and I'm still here. I listen to music to make the time bearable. To trick my head that I'm moving along with time. It kinda works because before I know it, I'm already in the office. Without the memory of how I got there.

Every night, I read my book while waiting in line for the shuttle home. I read to transport myself to a world where you don't exist. Where I am just living vicariously with the characters in the book. Where even just for a while, I won't be in pain. I can conquer the world alongside the main character and forget you. For a while. I can't read in the shuttle so I close my book and you appear again. I miss you and I'm back from where I started.

The next day, I do the same. This has been my routine for almost 2 months. I'm tired.

One of my bestfriends (human one) asked me, "What do you want? What do you want from him? Do you wanna be with him?"

"No, I don't wanna be with him. Not exactly. I wanna feel that I'm actually worth an awkward conversation. That I'm worth the effort. Because I couldn't handle not being his favorite person. I want him to wanna talk about the real stuff. The hard stuff. I just wanted to be worth something to him, you know? I wanna say sorry. It was stupid how I broke down and didn't explain. I'm always ready to jump off a sinking ship without thinking who I'm gonna leave behind. I did what I did because I didn't wanna lose him. But I guess losing him was inevitable." is what I should've said. But the too-proud-inarticulate-not-wanting-to-explain me just said, "I don't know."

These are the thoughts that I have to drown every morning and night. Now I don't have anything to drown them with. To the hipster robber who stole my 10-year old iPod with all my sad songs and my friend's copy of The Lord of the Flies, there is a special place in hell waiting for you.