Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Life is made up of some happy moments and some sad ones. Neither can one have a life that has only joyous moments, nor is it possible for you to have only grief in your life. Just like two sides of a coin, life also presents us with two sentiments - happiness and sorrow. It is how much are we able to revel in happiness and how quickly we get over the sorrow that decides how we live the moments in our life. While some people suffer from distress silently, I once decided to pen it down in words, thus trying to ease the pain a little.
I stopped almost a year ago, someone had told me this blog was inappropriate. However, during an email cleanup yesterday, I read an email from 6 months ago which at the time I thought was spam. It was a person asking me to continue my story. My pain was their door of escape. A way to see love through the eyes of another. Love lost.
I need to finish this story, I need to tell it for the story it is. A story that changed me and made me who I am. I could define myself as a dreamer, a person blessed with a curse. The guy with so many opportunities. The guy who was flying high and crashed so low. I never want sympathy, I just want someone, anyone to read my story. No one will listen to my songs, my cries fall on deaf ears and my verbal confessions are Tasmanian tigers in a forest of my truths.
When the opportunity came to go out in Sydney with a few friends to what was known as the hottest nightclub, I didn't blink. I got my darkest outfit on, did my hair and got a collection of CD's for the 2 hour drive. We met up with a few friends, one was a girl who she always didn't like. This girl was on a TV show called 'next top model'. We both knew she was attracted to me, but I wasn't going to do anything, so she thought. In her eyes, I didn't know what was going on with her and her ex boyfriend. In my heart I was hurting, so I let the angst, the fever, the red light take the floor. It brought out a very messy version of myself. I pushed the limits with everything that night. I was acting like a pretentious arsehole. Too cool for anyone, flaunting my achievements and my bravado. This was not the person I knew existed.
At one stage amongst this mess, something happened. This is the first time I've admitted this or spoken about it. It will probably be the last considering no one will probably read this.
I ran to the toilets. I slammed the cubicle door shut and I reminded myself how I define myself. I was at University studying hard to become a Primary School teacher. I had finally gotten back the girl I fell in love with at a young age. She was cheating on me, but should I fight for her? I wasn't supporting her dreams, her change of tone, her reasons to grow, her goals, her career her fucking life! The bruise was showing better. My face was moist with tears, It was uncontrollable. I reached for my phone and messaged her that I missed her, she was at work and wrote back that she was bored. She also said that she wanted me to have a good time and that she loved me. The tears continued. I got out and looked at my reflection, I was so surprised to see a mess staring back at me. This guy was lost. Six words. Over and over again like a broken record repeated in my head. "Oh no, this can't be happening".
Fading faces surrounded me, I thought no one would find out, no one did. The place I found myself was no longer happy, it was diseased and deadly. The darkness was my friend, no it was pushing me further into my own darkness. I was falling fast, this much I knew. Those six words. Six words. Over and over again.
Last night I had a dream. The dream was vivid. I was visited by a person who I had never met. He gave me a simple message. He said "Find those words I gave you in that cubicle, I brought them with your tears." I woke up in a sweat, I don't know what that could mean! Im scared why I will be saying those words. His eyes. The timing. I am scared.