Am I Done Dying?

When I started falling for people, it seemed to be the most romantic thing in the world.

I’d never watched rom-coms on purpose, but my idea of romance was archetypal. Hugs, kisses and lots of fucking.

I am sitting on a soft bench in Marina Square. When I Was Done Dying is playing on loop, with the occasional sound of a screaming child piercing the bassline.

The day started with breakfast with my brother. We talked about our family. We talked about how mom wanted to move. Away.

I used big words. Observations. Realisations. Instructions. I saw his eyes wet once and felt the Pyrrhic pride of getting the gravity of the situation through to him.

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She said Better luck next time, don’t worry so much, without ears I couldn’t hear, I could just feel the touch

There is some sort of enlightenment that I am feeling right now as I sit on the plush pleather seats.

It is humming, it is vibrating in my heart in a language I do not understand.

I’m writing this down to make sense of it.

I realise that recently I have had little desire to meet anyone.

I realise that any desire to meet them is a desperation to obtain an appraisal of my soul’s worth, a Sisyphean task.

My impression of approval is that it is a slippery slope; if you didn’t work on it, the other person would like you less and less. L

It came to a head today as I met Vivian, the girl who had left the Comminions.

Her avoidant eyes looked dull and hopeless compared to when I last saw her a year ago.

She said that she really couldn’t tell us what was wrong, but it was serious. The reason for this was sudden, she said.

She was very distracted the whole time, and her story was tragic, and I felt no connection at all to this person I once knew.

Before leaving, I would proceed to lie to her that I was glad to have met up. The realisation that it was a lie hung phlegmmy from my tonsils.

I didn’t enjoy it. She was different. She was not present. She wasn’t the same person. She didn’t laugh at my jokes either.

There is an unquantifiably immense burnout I am experiencing.

I have not been honest with the life I was living; I subconsciously ask for hugs and love and attention, whatever the warped sense of love I have generated was.

Love is no conflict, love is not arguing. The deal is off once unhappiness is involved.

I realise that I do not enjoy hanging out with the people I Like. For now, I would not enjoy hanging out with anyone at all.

And the Earth looked at me and said Wasn’t that fun? And I replied I’m sorry if I’d hurt anyone

I think my family is going to fracture into a thousand pieces.

I think that it will be a good thing.

This sucks. I need time away from home.