It’s been long since I’ve written anything. Because I do not feel like writing anymore. The wonder child that I thought I was sounds like a distant memory now, echoing in the valley where nothing grows anymore. As I sit at the top of this lonely summit called life, the infertile valley seems as arid as my eyes. Where did my tears go? It feels like I burned out, and so did my tears. How I thought I was destined for greater things, but all I was able to manifest with these weary hands was a sense of constant loss, all the time.
With all the strength I’ve left I cling to the life like a desperate sailor holding onto the floating shipwreck, aware of the fact that he may drown if not now, then maybe later, but he would surely drown if no other ship passes by him. Shipwreck after shipwreck, nauseating in the giant ocean of miseries, I still continue, hoping to reach somewhere, not knowing where to go anymore though. And in the nights when I sleep, everything from my past comes crawling back to my head. Dreams in my eyes keep getting replaced by the nightmares of the ghosts of the ones I lost.
Was I ever a wonder child to even begin with? I’ve spent 30 years of my life with no achievement whatsoever. I’ve lost my home three times by now. Even if I want to go back home, I don’t know where to go to. That sense of family, I smothered it with my own hands again and again. And every time I picked my clothes and walked away. Which sane person does that? The person I loved to death just only yesterday wishes me to death today. I could be a perfect example of how an angel turns into a demon over time. Still, I can’t loathe myself. Can I ever find the peace that I am so desperately looking for?
I saw Simba in my dream last night, I saw you too. I think of Mani all the time I am not doing something. The very last concern in my head when I go to sleep is you, and my mornings begin with your name. And all the moments in between when I am alone with myself, I am not really alone, I play the past three years on repeat, dealing with a broken heart that we could never go back to being the same even if I wanted to. Watching you battle with your deteriorating health makes me wish if I could swap places with you, because I know I am stronger than you. I’ve got a bigger instinct for survival.
You tell me that I destroy people, I break them and then I leave. I am no innocent lamb. Maybe I am not, I am just another human who is bound to his nature. You wish for my heart to be broken, unaware that it’s not whole to even begin with. How could a person with a whole heart leave so much wreckage behind? And I still go on, in the search of yet another home. And I wonder now, should I stop? Taking my life away would be easier than going on with it. But the coward in me wouldn’t let me euthanize my soul. I wish I could hold you in my arms without you hating me anymore. I wish I could get Simba back. I wish I could be there with Mani. But these are all the wishes which may never come true, not after the way we look at each other. I am no wonder child. I am not a wanderer, I am lost.