Day 15

I’m dragging it today.

The sadness.

It is sitting in between panic raggged breaths, pauses and conversations. The morning tremble has invaded the day. Maybe the hot and cold feeling is emptiness coursing through my veins.

I am so empty.



I have blocked so many scenes from the past few days. Only now is it starting to trickle in and it’s making me emotional.  My dad cried, My brother too. My mother remained close lipped, trying to be strong and I wish I had stared at her more and took her in. There is no perfect goodbye, no hug tight enough, its all like sand. I keep picturing my parents and brother standing at the lines near the check in point as I looked back to wave goodbye, the light blinding me, I could not see their faces as I made my and kept looking backwards, only saw silhouettes. The Curl of my mother’s hair, the tallness of my father, my chubby sweet sweet brother. Handing in my boarding pass, I looked back and waved goodbye till I disappeared into the unknown.


It’s night 3 in this foreign land. Tonight, I don’t feel well. Parts of me still think I am home but when I look outside and walk these pavements and look up at these bright  fucking lights, I am reminded that I am so far from home and no matter how homesick I get, I have to toughen up. There is no option. 

When I got here, my emotions were still blocked. 3 planes, Culture shock. Nobody could pick me up from the airport and I had to navigate my way at night. When I got here and I was so underwhelmed by what I saw and the place I would be living in. I deflated and felt like I was imposing. I felt this instant regret and I realised the magnitude of the decision I had made. He then called me, my boyfriend or whatever I can call him now, he called and we spoke for almost an hour and that calmed me tremendously. He is the antidote. The next day we skyped constantly and then this morning we spoke for an hour. Today he was busy and could not talk and then we had a fight, I sunk to these depths… Jesus fucking Christmas. Why.

I am in this tiny bedroom,  sleeping on a mattress without a base. I have enough money to go on for a while but I need a job soon. The girl I am living with came to grab me so me, her and her former dodgy male boss could take us to dinner. This, I found vaguely weird. 

The statement “a new life” used to fill me up with such joy but I find myself dreading it at the same time. How can I start a new life when parts of me are still longing and wishing for things that have long passed and will never be. That boy remained with parts of me that I will never be able to take back. I feel as though something has been drained from my spine when he is absent. Do I move forward with these gaping holes in my being and accept that this is who I am now. Is it okay. Is that how it works. 

Never bloomed

​​I have been on zero contact with him for 48 hours. Yesterday felt a little like death, the without is always crippling. I shed some tears for the thing I don’t need but want and can’t have. I am hurting, I think of him every waking moment, my mind always reverts back to him. Getting teary eyed when shopping with my mother, laughing and then remebering him then choking on the lump in my throat. 

In the midst of all this I am however at peace, my mind isn’t wondering about were I am currently placed in the map or order of his life. Am I still top order, middle order or low order. I want to let go with grace.

I have always ached for distant places as I have always felt trapped by geography.
It’s the environment I am in, I would say to myself. If I leave I will find it, whatever it is.

He came along and I stopped wanting. I found it possible to find my happiness and home in the confines of this small town. I  thought I had made a breakthrough, why go halfway across the world in search of something, in search of inner peace, happiness and completeness if it’s here. I made a home in his eyes and his warm skin, my delusions have no limits. I stopped running away from myself when he was with me. That is why I never left in the beginning. Clinging on to that euphoria in the hope that things would change and bloom more than the current. The flowers never bloomed some more, I wilted and left.

Slight lift

I treated myself to a book, there is this vintage store which I have been going to since I was a teenager, when my life is in this lost state I always gravitate towards that corner store and I always always find an uplifting read buried in there. Always. I am not big on self help books, I like a story, autobiographies that take me on a journey. I need to be utterly absorbed but this book though not a self help book, is filled with wisdom. It covers mental illness and the author doesn’t dwell which is just perfect for me.

This week I have been on the move, I have energy and drive, it tapers off at some point but it has been a while since I have felt this way. I can get out of bed. I have left the house 3 out of 5 days which is a massive improvement from once last week and the week before. The dark cloud has been slightly lifted. My moods are a  moment to moment thing but the spaces between being numb and breaking down are growing wider.

I still cry everyday but not heavy intolerable sobs. The depression isn’t as vengeful and violent this week, just this quiet deep  sadness. I can contain myself.

It has been so peaceful to place a self imposed ban on social media and text messages. I took the time out to be on my own and heal the only way I thought would be best at that point in time.  I have a long way to go, of this I’m sure of but I think I am ready for social interaction again. Better now before I begin to experience the dark side of solitude.

Angry and  hurt 

​The emotions have been violent.

On Friday morning I woke up clasping a towel dampened by the tears I had shed all night long. It started on Thursday night when the reality of him leaving finally sank in. I do not know why my feelings for this man are so complex. I should hate him but I don’t. I never will. He never promised me a rose garden anyway. I don’t know what any of this means. I just know that I took care of his heart more tenderly than I did my own. 

Heartbreak is something you carry with you everyday. It is that sting when you are sipping your coffee, it slips itself in the middle of conversation. Just when you think you are getting better. It’s always round the corner. Waiting.

 I can live without him, all of this is exacerbated by the fact that he got to leave. To go to some other country, a new environment and a better life. This break up is probably easy on him that it is on me. I am stuck here, suicial, deppresed, broke, breathing through corrupted lungs and he is busy catching flights free as a bird. For almost 7 years my dream has always been to go overseas but finances have not been on my side. He gets to live my dream in the process and that hurts more than words can describe. If  that makes me petty or jealous then so be it but I am drowning and wasting away here and he gets to flourish overseas? I am fucking angry.

Friday I was still reeling in the aftermath and I lied that I had cramps to a dear friend whom I was supposed to be meeting. I felt terrible but I know her boyfriend would have popped by and I would have had to endure seeing them together and I am too fragile to be dealing with that right now. I am a terrible person these days. I am selfish too. Sometimes though, you have to take care of yourself first.

Yesterday I was in a bus filled with happy loud fellow models and I was in the back seat dying and pondering. That scene in the movie with the camera zooming in on the girl who is miles away from the people around her. Lost in the crowd.  Everything was white noise, the sun blinding me. 


I feel like some part of me is calling me home. To rest. My mind troubled by the emptiness. I lay awake so vividly aware of my painful existence. It’s too much. I have suffered enough.I don’t trust myself at night. I cry until the restlessness withers away, a scream becomes a yawn. This cowering in the dark, is there no end. Is this a test. To whom do I owe.