365 Written Days

Main do jahan ka kya karu, tu bataa

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I will accept everything. Your hatred, your tears, your screams, your ignorance, every single thing but don't ask me to leave. Your absence is something that I'll never be able to accept.
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Dear Diary,

It shouldn't have been this way, it isn't fair. I was supposed to escape, it was supposed to get better. I don't know what's happening anymore, why do I still feel the haze? What am I supposed to do now?

Daksh will worry, someone is depending upon my wellness now. I can't do this again, I can't leave him alone. I guess this was all a big mistake, everything's my fault. I shouldn't have hoped, I should have known I'd never be fine. I'm defective, a curse even.

But I won't let my emptiness swallow him whole, not him. He deserves a life, I'll make sure to give him one. I may be able to redeem myself for everything that is wrong, and then I'll make up for being me.

I hope that's enough.

___________

Feelings are a funny occurrence, you suppose you know all about what it is and what you're feeling but in the end, it's all just baseless speculation. Are you pleased? You say you're okay, are you really? Do you not care about all you ignore in the face of being mindful?

If you understand everything, or at least live under the illusion of doing so, maybe you'll never understand...

It's so damn easy to lose yourself, a second is all it takes, a single misstep and you tip off towards the very thing that you keep avoiding like a plaque. It's not intentional, and definitely not something you got covered. Hell, it isn't even visible.

You won't know how deep you've fallen again, but at one point you'll look around and all surrounding you is an eerie void, no direction to follow, no light, nothing.

Aashika is no stranger to these feelings, she may have struggled with naming them but it's a familiar ache, always.

What exactly is she supposed to do? Move on and away from the reasons behind her weakness, the cause of her doom, but she already did that didn't she?

Not often you can just forgive and forget, how is that possible when the people who wronged you firmly believe their notion against hurting you? How is that possible when even you don't know what's forgivable among the chunks you've long forgotten?

She never blamed them, she didn't blame anyone for her state other than herself. She was responsible for herself, for her misery. In absolute solitude, maybe she believes it even, she is the problem after all.

But then, you can't escape yourself, can you?

There are days when she wakes up in cold dread, alarmingly quiet for the whirlwind inside her head. There's a slight tremor in her hands, movement uncoordinated. She doesn't remember when it started or how.

For as long as she can remember the stretch of her precarious feelings has always been one or the other way, leading to mornings when she'd wake up just a little less.

It's not a matter of concern per se, it doesn't affect her efficiency in performing her tasks, except the persistent hollowness superficially makes her sick down to her stomach.

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Dear Diary,

Maine Atharv se kaha tha ki mujhe aaram karna hai, usse dur jaane ka yahi bahana banaya tha na, ab toh sab thik hona chahiye. Fir sab kuch thik ho kyun nhi rha? Aisa lagta hai main sirf apni problems se bhaagti chali ja rhi hu, unka koi solution toh hai hi nhi.