ImageFile quote21 weeks or somewhat 4 months ago, I talked about escape, escape through people, conversation, book or hobby.
But in reality it was a different experience, I found my escape in solitude.
The things and reasons that put me there made me question every conversation, interaction and relationship I’ve had so far. And it was painful, to say the least.
I felt so guilty admitting that I was sad, that I was hurting. I don’t know why. It was pretty ironic, in any case. That’s why I didn’t talk about it much. I couldn’t bear to see the expression of disdain on someone else’s face. I couldn’t bear the judgement
It all meant so much to me, and at that very moment it meant nothing. Probably it was god’s plan, or maybe I needed someone to put the burden on. Nothing was right and I had no idea what to do anymore. It felt like I’ve lost control of my life.
I’m no Socrates, Aristotle or Dale Lama, to have it all figured out. And not someone who forgives people who wrong them. But I am hopelessly in love with memories. Flashes from another time, another place.
So many people own a piece of me, be it habit, memory or soul. But one thing I’ve learned is that you don’t have to understand things for them to be.
But what’s next? Bonded to escape?
For me it was reconciliation, acknowledging what I got, be it good or bad. I know it gets difficult, but tell me, does anything worth keeping come easy? It never does, never will. So I decided to pay my regards.
Goodbyes are hard, it’ like dying a little.
But sometimes, that’s the only way.