As we grow older we keep questioning our existence, and the foundations of our life. Why are we living? What for? Is this life has a meaning, a value or a purpose?. And that is how my life has been since I can remember. . .
Days are passing so slowly yet faster than light. I pass my days in a closed room surrounded by four walls and desperate dreams. While everything on the outside is changing, people moving on, achieving things, building families and houses, yet here I stand, or rather here I sit, doing nothing but daydreaming. On the wall in front of me, there are three bookshelves with at least fifty books on them. I want to read them all yet I cannot seem to stand and reach for one. . . even the intellectual inside me that I used to feel proud of is disappearing.
While I was moving forward and thought that life was finally rewarding me for my patience and hard work, I got back to the very beginning. The only thing that is different from the beginning is that I am much older and uglier than I used to be. I do not have a clue what I am doing here or what I am supposed to be doing. I do not know which role that God has chosen for me, what does He want from me to do? What should I do?. ... Questions that keep hitting me harder than sticks and stones.
A feeling of emptiness never ceases, I feel completely lost and empty. I am in need of words to express my inner fury but my tongue keeps on failing me each time I try to speak. Lately, memories of the past keep on haunting me making matters even worse; they come so vividly, and the pain feels once again as new as the first time. And as if that pain is not enough, the outside world keeps striking me each time I try to stand.
I had once loved a man. . . I am still in love with him. . . I had found in him a home that I had always been looking for; an ear that would listen to all my stories, worries, and silly jokes; a warm chest that would hold me with all my faults, insecurities and imperfections. I found in him the father that would show me the right from the wrong, and that would love me even at my worst. I found in him the brother that would advise me, tease me and protect me. Most importantly, I found in him the lover that would wash away all my sadness, that would fill me with love and compassion. . . I always needed that, compassion, but I found it in no one. . .
I would always look at the sky and count the stars, I even named few of them and called them dear friends. . . they remained there, unchanging, faithful and consistent. While people changed, they never did. I lacked the earthly love, and they seem to have provided a little bit of that. . . When at days I don't look at the sky, I would feel they would blame me for taking them for granted, I would feel that they are thinking of me, wishing me to take a look at them and wish them a peaceful night and ask how they are doing. . .
Then, he came and filled all that void, and I never looked at the sky since I knew him ( It is only right for the sky to punish me for taking it for granted now! ). I guess I betrayed my only friends; the only ones who loved me for me and saw through me and accepted me even though I was not one of them. I am no star, I have never shined before, my name had only taken the darkness of the night and not the beauty and the brightness of the galaxy. I have never resembled any of my friends, the stars, they were confident, warm and beautiful, yet they loved me. And now, even though I look at the sky I never feel the same, they are not looking at me anymore let alone through me! I keep looking, I call them by their names and I even cry to them, but it feels as if they are not named anymore; as if I am not there, and it is just them and their blinding light. . .
He did not leave me, I did. . . I got scared, I did not want to get attached to someone the way I was getting attached to him. Attachment is part of death, it ties you and weighs you down, it suffocates you and paralyzes you, and you sink right to the bottom. And I wanted to always feel free. . . I do not know how free. . . but I just wanted to feel that nobody owned me and that I did not own anyone. Even the stars grew unattached to me because I tried to own them by naming them. They taught me a valuable lesson that is why I left him. . . when that unattachment grew stronger, then I decided to let him go.
