On Winter Rains

my sunny disposition with my social inhibition

Last night was bigger than me and my loneliness. The windows rattled and the kitchen was colder than usual. If I closed my eyes I could picture you here on my bed with me, almost. The lightning streaked my walls occasionally, reminding me of how sometimes fleeting things leave behind a sonorous memory, ringing in your ears until it reaches your heart and sits there, making it heavier than before. It is raining at the present moment too. I was out in the cold, a little drenched. The cold is ringing inside my bones, and I am aware of every memory I have ever made.

This is not how it was supposed to be. I remember the first rain of this winter in December last year; an omen, I had supposed. Something shifted last night and now I am left with an aching gap on both my palms - time is slipping away, you are slipping away. Very gracefully, might I add. Our conversations are now punctuated with long periods of silence. You’re busy making plans, you have a life to go to. I am busy making plans to fill my day. All my plans involve me, and just me. When did I get so lonesome? Being an outcast is only cool when it’s talked about in a song. In real life, it makes you believe all the reasons you invented to explain why you’re unwanted everywhere. I have been sitting and sleeping and eating and combing my hair, and it’s all accentuated by my bursting into tears at any given moment. Life is beautiful and everything that it’s made of is ephemeral. I am not ready to grow up or grow apart. Who will I turn to now? No one will understand, and no one has to understand. 

I picture myself seven months from now, somewhere. I am walking in a city, maybe mine, maybe yours. Perhaps you and I don’t talk anymore. But I am still here, in this world. Life, as I know it, won’t end until it ends. Until then, I will sit here and wait for you to say something more. When I will be in a room full of people, a part of me will still be at home, on my bed, waiting.

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this series is queued at odd hours, just a little experiment. someone told me to try meditation so that is what i am doing here. the song in the header is linked in the post somewhere. the usual newsletter (aandhi) will be resumed soon. thank you for being a reader, you have been very very kind to me and my emotional turbulence. happy new year.