an overpowering sense of ‘missing’ consumes me like a hungry wolf — wholly and devilishly, relishing every bite-sized inch of my sanity. all it spares is a mangled carcass of desires and hopes, dreams and wishes.
i am a sucker for crests but find myself increasingly thrown into troughs. sometimes, when the tidal waves throw me high up in the air, filling my lungs with oxygen so pristine i choke on excess, i forget the other side. at the other times, i am pushed down, under the deep blues…so deep the buoyancy doesn’t work.
till recently i faulted myself for the state i find myself in. i wondered if i had always been wrong — an intruder, an outsider in the grand scheme of things, an unwelcome guest who’s overstayed her welcome in the party of someone’s life. today, i am made to believe i am not wrong and that hostility was pre-ordained, irrespective of whether i happened or not.
i know not which is worse — believing you were the mistake or knowing it doesn’t matter anyway.
