wabi - sabi

dieci

"𝚃𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎..."

"Work is tiring but fulfilling, I swear! "

A friend of mine exclaimed. She was in front of me; her eyes were heavy, struggling to stay open as if weighted down by invisible hands. There were dark circles formed, looking like crescent moons beneath them. It's her job, alright? So she hasn't been getting much sleep.

Despite that, however, the joy on her face could not be missed. I let out a chuckle, shaking my head while intently listening to her.

"I've been very busy with university these days. I have to do this and that."

It was another day with another friend. Finally catching up after months of planning, I found myself sitting in front of her in a café in the city. I slightly heard other people chattering at the nearby tables. It was 4 in the afternoon, and it was still sunny outside. We'd be drenched in sweat if we hastily went outside.

I kept my gaze on my friend, slightly nodding. And suddenly it's become familiar...

"So then we'll have a quiz on this subject, and then there's also a recitation. I don't even study for other subjects anymore. School's tough."

I blinked my eyes. I kept my gaze fixed when another friend showed up in that same café. I blinked again and looked at the time on my watch; it was 5 in the afternoon.

Everything seemed so eerily familiar. And as if it were some deja vu, in a flick of a finger, it played like a movie in my head. The people, the scenery, the conversation, the atmosphere—everything. This had happened before.

I blinked once more. I noticed everything—from the way their eyes sparkled, the smile creeping up their faces, their relaxed shoulders, and the way their mouth uttered every single word with a hint of excitement. Perhaps too much of everything; it hadn't come unnoticed that the conversation had become more of a story about their lives.

The environment changed from one setting to another, but I remained in my place, sitting idly and doing the same thing. I maintain eye contact, nodding and chuckling, answering shortly with some jokes, and leaning closer to make them feel more at ease.

I have yet to unlock an uncanny ability within myself. Not that I'm surprised about it.

I often wondered why I was so quiet. So quiet, it seems to be more of a disability than a part of my personality—as anyone would willfully slap it into my face.

For the past few days, I've been surrounded by other human beings, and I wasn't stuck in the small space with four walls, which is called my room, and I managed to survive the interaction. I love my silence, and I thrive on my silence. It had become a necessity, knowing that I despise talking. After spending time in isolation, specifically during the COVID-19 pandemic, it hit close to home.

I think the more I've matured quite enough, the more I've learned to protect my energy and to figure out what exactly kinds of people I want in my life. Most of the time, I despise how my quietness is mistaken for aloofness when I just like it how it is, as it is tranquil, and I am someone whose always head is in the clouds.

I learned that I should not talk. People should just shut the hell up. I think I've grown fond of the idea of becoming a menace that makes other people uncomfortable with my silence.

A little question that may pique their interest, and I realize that people truly do love talking about themselves. Not like I complain; I would much prefer if they did all the talking. Their lives might be far more interesting than mine. What else could they expect from a person who prefers to stay in her head rather than reality? And so I make them talk. Even if I didn't try, they'd still do it.

I like silence. I thrive in silence. Most people can't survive there.

Though sometimes it could get annoying if it ends up on some topics. I'm not society's best soldier; I'm more of their worst citizen. Unwilling, uncooperative, and unmotivated. Small talk pisses me off. Normal topics bore me so suddenly these days that if they are not mentally stimulating enough, I will never say anything in the whole conversation.

Catching up with friends should have been a satisfying experience; instead, I went home drained.

The fatigue was felt throughout my body, and as my eyes felt heavy, I could bawl my eyes out on the way home. The nighttime made me shiver at how cold it was, and I clutched my bag as I walked carefully. It is not the night that I am scared of. It is more of the 'whys' in my mind.

It might have broken me, knowing everyone had already found their way in life while I was left alone on a dark path, directionless. I knew I was a work in progress, but seeing others already taking a huge step forward probably makes me feel threatened in some way, or perhaps I might have a fear of missing out.

I've never felt so different—I meant that I always have felt that way, but it seemed that the people I held close to my heart outgrew me as well. It was fine with me, knowing I'd still find my way back. But I was slow as a turtle. I guess I was truly frustrated.

Another conclusion I came to, feeling so drained, was that my peace was being trampled upon by others. I knew how much I worked for my peace of mind for years. No one knew that. No one knew the nights I cried myself to sleep or the times when I wrote in my journal about my fears and vulnerabilities. I haven't dared to speak with others, and if I had, they would be swift to invalidate such feelings.

Feeling something in this generation—no, emotions—has become so illogical that no one wants to talk about it already.

I hate hearing about toughening it up, perhaps because the emotions I feel are so deep that they could be comparable to the deep, mysterious sea itself. I have learned throughout those years that the first person who could not invalidate my emotions was myself. I treasured the depths of my persona, and I don't think I could let anyone trample upon the hard work I've done for years.

I remember how desperately I asked for peace of mind. I could not ride the intensity of the waves of my emotions, and so I knew I would honor it finally, just to reach that tranquility myself. I've succeeded, even though most of the time I still had imbalances.

On the other hand, I felt grateful for honoring my emotions and choosing to live in peace. Now, peace is all I could ask for.

However, after all those interactions, I'm afraid that the peace I've cultivated for years was so easily taken away by others. Surely, it had always been a trait of mine to listen, yet I've never felt so drained, so lost, or so taken advantage of.

Were others getting so comfortable with the peace I shared with them that they unconsciously brought it with them? I thought.

But most certainly, by the time I finally calmed the waves of my emotions, I was still wise enough to figure out what I was lacking in myself.

I'm still robbed of my time and energy by most people. There is only one implication for that: I have to protect my energy from others.

That way, I can maintain my silence and share my peace with others while still having more peace within myself.

Please do the same for yourself as well :))

love lots,

aru.