And then I wish at times I could make you understand that the sadness I feel beneath this glow isn’t like those earth wrecking hurricane and storms, which comes once in a while to wreck away the city tops and amusement parks that can be rebuild all the way back. It feels like a cancer; a galloping ache that now thinks my chest as it’s home, a sound of a thousand soul shattering inside this brain, a human dying inside with heartbeat ceasing to a shake. It feels like a cancer; here I am awake at 3am because I forgot to tske my medication. Here I am standing at the door, trembling, not aware if I will even wake up the next morning as everyone in this house falls asleep. And you call me naive because I’m not like you, because I am not the like the people you always came to know in your life, your life that revolves a million worlds apart from mine. I’m on a voyage of nightmare. And I wake up to people that are more haunting than the nightmare I got in my childhood. They speak of love, and they speak of kindness but I’m sure I wasn’t raised to feel this sort of love and this sort of kindness that only puts another tainted needle on my chest, and ask me to be happy for I have everything. But what if what I have is never enough? What if I’m not the mind you ought me to have? And do you ever lay back on nights you cannot fall asleep and think about the billion other people who are suffering a tragedy inside themselves, just like me.
I have watched the strongest people crumble down into fragments; I have also watched love heal each one of them. They always told me they missed parts of their lives because it either resided a thousand miles away or just a phone call away. They told me they missed the smell of lighted incense sticks on Sunday morning or the post breakfast conversations. They told me they also missed the dirty foot marks their best friends left on the bed. Because they belonged there, didn’t matter if they were a billion light years apart, for them home was a home and love was always love, and together it was just powerful enough to transcend any time or space. And I sit here, with my leg on top of another, staring at the multiple dots in air, trying to connect them, with a hope that maybe one day I can also sympathize and feel the crushing weight in my stomach. I’m a good human, I tell to myself but maybe not good enough to make the world understand that I’m also grinding in the ache. How can I ever make them understand what it is like to place my hand on my chest and realize this is no longer the heartbeat I used to own. And maybe I don’t sympathize well or miss parts and pieces of my life, because I never belonged to anywhere or to anyone. And the only time where it felt like home was when I put my arms around myself and fell apart in the narrow bathroom space. I will go to sleep tonight and wake up the other day, the world will keep on moving but I guess I will never know if I am strong or just too vulnerable.