Restless.
As usual, I can't sleep. I don't like what I eat. I'm not in the mood to study.
Why?
I don't know, but I probably feel lonely as usual. It's not like that's a bad thing. For me, it's the norm.
I try to recall the moments when I let my actions flow with great spontaneity. I was carefree. My actions all spoke of my emotions. The tiniest detail of feeling could be felt by how I stood, walked, leaped, and everything else in between. I didn't know how to hold back. I was, in the most literal sense, feeling life. I guess those were the years when happy was the norm and everything else was plain weird. I enjoyed every moment of everything, even stress. I knew that I was the most optimistic person back then. I believed that I was unstoppable and invincible. I thought that I could never be too fragile as to breakdown, but I was wrong.
One day, every bit of sunshine that I tried to give out to everyone fired back at me like a meteor waiting to devastate every living form it encounters. Ah, there is too much beauty in pain. Seeing everything over again in my mind breaks me all over again. I was too naive then. I always gave anything and everything that I could. I always tried to make everyone happy, but I guess I lost. My sprouting vulnerability was later revealed for all to see. I gave with all I had until I ran out. Soon after, I was left empty and useless by those who I tried to please. They've eventually realized that I was of no use to them anymore, and so they threw me away like a limbless Barbie doll. Then, the most apocalyptic event happened to me. I was hated for reasons I do not understand, and it was not because I was too stupid to comprehend. I was hated because of all the fictional images running through the heads of those who knew nothing about me. My spirit was crushed.
As much as I hate to admit it, I really can't avoid the fact that I couldn't even follow my own advice. I questioned myself and hated who I thought I was. I was swayed by all of the lies that broke me. I lost my idea of who I was and what I was supposed to be, me. I was my own stranger, my own nightmare. I believed that I fell short of everything that I had to be. I was stupid, indeed.
That phase was over, but it doesn't mean that I have forgotten everything. I still carry the burden of that messed up time. I still live with what's left of it. The thing that I regret the most is how I lost my ability to feel love and happiness. It seems like I have successfully convinced myself that my old perception of those two words was clearly false. Whenever I feel anything close to what was perceived as happiness, I would instantly question the emotion. I would wonder whether that was really it. I'm not a cyborg, though. I smile. I laugh. I really like laughing, but I don't know how genuine that is. I don't know if it's permanent. I know how to enjoy little things, but that's probably because the people I am with now are really happy people. I've learned to live a little. They seem to have infected me with what might be happiness, but at the end of the day, when I'm by myself, I come back to the norm, my norm.
I usually stare at empty spaces and think of a lot of things. I don't think of this as something negative. I, actually, think that this is a really good skill that I've developed because of that incident. I learned how to think before I act, but that's a really lonely thing to do. I can't be as impulsive and carefree as I was before. I'm very much cautious now. I put up a lot of walls and I seem to think deeper. I've unintentionally shielded myself against everyone and everything. I have to agree with people who tell me that I have trust issues. Yeah, I do. I don't trust people completely. There's always that hint of doubt and I don't know how to throw that away.
Lately, people have been trying to infect me with their aura of happiness. Well, I'm glad that's happening. If you've ever tried talking to me seriously, you've probably caught me staring at all those happy friends of mine while saying that I feel fulfilled because they are happy. It's not some kind of joke. I'm totally serious whenever I say that. I know I can't feel much positive stuff, but hey, I work hard for those I care for. I work day and night. I sacrifice a lot of things just to make everyone happy, just to protect everyone.
What an epic story, but it's true. Have you ever wondered why I work this hard? (If you know me, you would understand how much that is.) I work from the heart. I work with the intention of never letting anything happen to the people I serve. I don't want them to experience THAT. It's almost dying, I swear (literally and figuratively).
Now, I wonder how I turned out this way. I mean, I'm okay. I don't have any intentions of disappearing from this world anymore. I'm just existing, but I guess that's okay too. I guess the people that I'm with are slowly teaching me how to feel anything and everything besides loneliness. It's going to take a while, but I'll get there, hopefully.
Sigh.
Though sometimes, I want people to know that I am not as invincible as they think. I want them to look at me as something fragile, something that needs something else with me. I need strength. I need security. I need protection from myself. I know how destructive I can be and I know how much I need people beside me. It's kind of terrifying being alone on this side of the world. I just watch people be happy, but I'm not with them. At the end of the day, when the show is over, I go home, alone. I've been really blessed to know all of these people that I know now. When I close my eyes, I can remember how they felt as though I was the one feeling it, not feeling lonely.
Maybe I'm just being selfish, asking for things I could never have. I have to wake up from this delusional state of mind. I have to live with being lonely because it's me. I just have to embrace it. I have to learn that all by myself.
It will take a while, but I'll get there.
爱你，宝贝
Missy
