It is very unnerving. Not knowing what to do next. I am listlessly wasting away time rereading books that don’t really deserve another look. It is nice. To read and see things that don’t make me think. To disappear in some words that aren’t mine and don’t mean anything special to me.

Sometimes, I draw weird parallels with my own life, which makes me feel melancholic. I find them in every love story that I have read, starting with Erich Segal’s Love Story to E L James’ sultry Fifty Shades. Why me? I wish I knew.

It’s been over 5 years that I have been single. From embracing aftermath to being glad that I am single to what I am now. It’s been such a long journey. I still gasp when I realise that it has in fact been five years. What I am now, is an extremely confusing state where I am glad that I am not in a complicated relationship but at the same time I realise the importance of having someone in my life. And it hasn’t alarmed me into drastic steps (like arranged marriage) but it has made me more aware of what I want. It is strangely liberating and sad at the same time. Liberating, for obvious reasons. Now I know what I really want out of life and love. And sad, because it has been evading me for so long. A part of me wonders for how long. But then what’s the point of wondering about things that no one has the answers to?

It is just, all this time and nothing to do is like putting a child in a candy shop. So many things to ponder about, things to worry about and things to feel thankful about. It makes one aware. Even when awareness can’t help you do anything.


Seeking refuge.

Happy faces. Fairy tale-ish love stories. Good news. Vacation pictures. Hopelessly in love conversations. The innocent ones. The ones who have never had to struggle for anything, not even once in their life. The illusioned ones who blind themselves with positivity. The ones who still go on believing. All of them.

Absolutely all of them get under skin and set my blood and bones on fire. I am an exceptionally jealous person as I am a Scorpio. But it is very well controlled. At least I make conscious attempts to not tear anybody’s throat out or berate someone who is being too positive. But I think I have had enough of it lately. Now, all I want to do is sink further into my bubble of depression and self loathing, and walk from the world that is so so unjust and so painful.

The only thing I wish is that I had somewhere to go to.