And lonely as it is that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it be less—
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
I sit and I sit. Too depraved, too emotionally and physically drained. I don’t know how many have you reached or gone through this state. When you give up on everything and absolutely everyone. Too tired to go on. Too tired to call, hold someone back; even yourself. After a long walk we sit on that bench, body cool with the evaporating sweat. Wanting to escape into a world where you don’t have to think….
Yes. For a person like me who goes wild thinking, the state is a bliss. But somehow today I sit deeply disappointed, lacking the feel. Lacking the want to converse with anyone. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna talk. I am so defeated. I am so tired.
The water rushes and hits the cliff, eroding it. With every force a part of the strong cliff gives way, It’s not visible. Not apparent yet. Only the hardest remain; soft lost to the waves ages ago. Once part of a great cliff, the pebbles now rest at the bottom of the salt water.
I look above and watch the clear blue sky, marred by a few clouds. The salt scented wind fills my nostrils and inflates my lungs. Every blow threatens to break me apart. Harsh words ring through my ears and I remember the pain with which hard and blunt words hit. Deep breath. A wave of breakdown evaded. I want to lie back over here and I want no one to disturb me. I have lost myself to these waves. I am pebbles, lost underwater. I am that bark, ripped from roots due to that storm, I am a healer lost in her own pain..
My dad comes and sits by me. His silence mingling with my melancholy. I think they acknowledged my prolonged absence at home. I am touched… He won’t hug me as I am a big girl now, he messes my hair with his elder, strong hands.. And.. and I fight tears no more
(Stanza from Robert Frost’s ‘Desert Places’)