There’s something eerie about this dread that is falling upon me, like a rain of sadness, washing my happiness away, and filling me up with guilt. Loneliness, never far out, awaits my return. No matter what I do, where I go, if I look behind me, I see the shadows of my past looming, and I think to myself: I must run farther until I can see them no more. But they always seem to travel with me, and despite all my optimism, and my determination, I just feel their weight taking me over.
Lots of things I’d like to say, but I stop myself mid-sentence because I don’t want to sound like a stupid emotional fool, given many people out there don’t really care about my feelings. So I hide behind a wall of detachment. I pretend never to be affected by anything, cold-hearted and insensitive to the pain of the world, and I walk confident, with a smile on my face, because everything is always ok. But is it really ok?
Of course not. I’d like to find a shoulder to cry on, a gentle soul to comfort me. The other side of the bed feels so empty every night, with no one to hold onto. I never should have known what love felt like, because now I miss it. Many times I tell myself, it’s better not to experience the beauty of a relationship. When all the bliss disappears, what remains hurts too much. Every day, I wonder what will become of my life. I want change. I drown myself in my words to find a meaning to my existence. These words give me a sense of control. They make me feel safe. They offer me guidance. They allow me to break free from the routine, and open the door to new worlds.
Yet, the sense of detachment I feel doesn’t last very long. I’m still drawn to people, want to build relationships, because I’m human after all. Words cannot provide me with love or trust. They only take me so far, but the rest of the journey, I have to live it day by day. With the good and the bad, I cannot protect myself against friends who will morph into enemies. I cannot prevent them from hurting me. I suffer, and then heal.
Wisdom teaches me to stay focused. Ready to turn around and move on if something doesn’t work out. We live once. Detachment offers me the support I need when my heart is sealed to any potential aggression, and only I own the key for whoever wants to come in.