I woke up today and everything’s fine. I’m eating my breakfast - oats and muesli with cinnamon and a chopped banana, drizzled with honey and yogurt - and everything is back to normal again. I have to stop doing that. Because of my recent apathy, it seems that any emotions that I may have and be suppressing tend to explode at inconvenient times. I guess my body needs a way to release all that crazy. I’m still pissed though. I keep smiling and I keep trying but the truth is that I don’t want anything to do with any of them. I miss my solitude. Only duty propels me now.

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged and I guess part of it was that I was too busy to write but the other part was probably that I was too focused on not thinking about it. “Just don’t think about.” That’s been my motto for the last five months. I’ve been a lot more stable this year because of that and I guess - to be honest - it has its ups and downs… but, recently, I’ve been seeing more of a down-side than an up-side.

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The honest truth is that I’m scared, if not terrified, of failure. It stems from my past - a childhood spent honing my own expectations, raising the bar, feeding my pride. Before I knew it, I had stopped trying and stopped wanting. I had resigned myself to a life of discontent. I hate investing in anything for this very reason - my future, my present, myself. I don’t trust myself to succeed. It just isn’t worth it. Most of the time, I suppress these thoughts; I cling tight to my motto - “just don’t think about it”. That’s the only way I can function now. Once my mind begins to churn over all the things that I need to do, the expectations I need to live up to, the panic rises in me and threatens to swallow me whole. The smallest things begin to seem impossible, unthinkable. I can’t do anything right. I’m never good enough.

I miss you. I call out to you. But all I hear is silence, empty and cold.

Sometimes I think to myself that there’s no point in anything if I don’t hate myself.

I love you. Sometimes, when I think of you, those three words are all I need. Not just you but so many others, too. There is nothing else to explain the endurance, the pain, and the quiet sadism that comes hand-in-hand with holding onto each precious relationship. If I didn’t love you, I would have given up long ago. It’s true. I love you, but this isn’t the love of fairytales. It isn’t clean, pretty or ‘true’. No, this is not a fairytale. In fact, the truth is, there may never be a happy ending - not with you or anyone.

I haven’t been writing much, recently. I know that. It’s not that there isn’t much to write about… So much has been going on. It’s crazy. I can barely keep up. It’s just that I feel like I might have reached a point my life where I’m too busy living life - living life, loving it and taking it all in - to write about it. I’ll try to update more in the days coming up but I don’t know. All you need to know is that I’m happy and fulfilled. Sometimes I get frustrated; sometimes I’m really tired… but, for the most part, I’m enjoying myself. All the highs and the lows mean nothing at the end of the day. It’s just good to be alive.

Sorry I’ve been MIA for a while, guise. It’s been ridiculously busy and lots of stuff has been going on for me… I’ll be back to answer your questions soon.

I thought I’d feel different, waking up today. I thought your absence would be more pronounced. But I feel the same. It’s just me and I’m just the same. All that’s changed is that I have my mornings back.