I am alone. We are alone. We are not meant to be like that.
My day is a barren, empty yellow day. The clouds are looming grey above me in the Stockholm sky and while there is a glimmer of hope, nobody knows the ongoing struggle in my head. People walk past me with their own issues and they will never really care or wonder why does that man look so sad and plunged into lethe.
My day is a barren yellow day,
Joys that sank
Chocked joys of mine.
My life that burns,
in the yellow air
and the love that was lost in the dust,
the life that was lost in the dust...
I can see you. I can sense you. I find myself in random times for no apparent reason whispering "I loved you so much" in this last crescendo of emotions that has engulfed me.
A week has passed and there is no sign. Everything is getting better. Everything is going to be better, but I cannot help but to grief for lost love. A love that needed two people to dance in the same tune, but ended up having just one dancing alone with the air.
Yesterday I had my Swedish national language exam and the ones I call my friends ignored me or sat somewhere else. It is true that everyone must fend of for themselves and that when you are grieving with sorrow you are not welcome into anyone's life or day. I did not expect them to hold my hand, but I expect them to ask me how I am, even as a placebo.
I once made a friend in Uppsala, a girl that we always had this hidden tension between us until she told me about it later but only after she returned to her native Dhaka. In my time of need I have always worried about her and turned to her, looking for some warmth and a familiar feeling, someone I really wanted to talk to and just let go. And time and again, she has rejected it, probably because of her own issues, but having your own issues is another thing, ignoring and not replying is another. And this was the last stroke, I am nobody's toy or last wheel.
Canada has been haunting me. I listen to a football radio, they talk about Toronto. I watch my favourite YouTube computer tech show, i find out he is based in Toronto. I go into the bathroom, I see her ghost, lying there seductively against the window while the mist from the warm water washes it away. I lost my money, my dignity, my pride and my heart. My head is a mess and my life is in tatters.
I can see you. I can see you right now, terrified and afraid. But it is ok. I forgive you. Because no matter how much it hurts, you do not hate people you loved. Even though they disappeared without a trace and blocked you completely from their lives. I always wondered how can you flip the love switch from on to off in a moment.
In my previous post I said I ran away. I was wrong. You were the one that ran away. Instead of sitting there, talking with me about it, solving it and after a time of healing, accept it, become friends and one day, we would discuss it and just laugh about it. I am 30 years old and all I wanted was you to be my girlfriend.
I am 30, addressing myself to a scared teen. I can see you. No matter the blocks, no matter the unfollows, no matter the long text you sent before your actions, I will always see you. And maybe one day you will send me something, open your heart once more, greet each others as old friends and run towards the sunset.
"I am with you till the end of the line"