Misery loves misery.
There are many things that we do in our normal lives. How normal is normal? It isn’t really my thing. Sometimes, some days, some things remind you that you wished you had stayed. We make plans, for a change in schedule or in time, plans to change our minds, plans to try and change our future. We watch life in pictures that don’t play a thing. We go through part of every stage alone. We go to bed sobbing, a wet pillow filled with tears, the sober mind left thinking.
When things mattered, we tell ourselves, that we would never make an enemy out of anyone. We try to be nice to everyone around us, build relationships with people who mattered. Profitable relationships that we spend too much time on, that most of the time we forget how shortchanged we are at the shorter end of the stick. We lose faith in finding someone, in realizing what is good enough, and the tainted vision of perfection. The chain of misery continues, hoping that happiness appears somewhere in this chain. This hunt continues, this pain that never really mattered in the day, this hunger to rid being alone.
This is a mess. This is the void of happiness. This is a new life in your hands trying to find a new beginning. The silence of home, the rumble of the only appliance switched on with food, the only memories you’re keeping away throughout. And the times you don’t know why these random conversations took place. We take time to forget how we wake up in the morning, or go to bed at night. There was no string of reasons in my bag that I could give for you to stay.
At the end of it all, it was that chain of intimacy in anonymity. It was how misery engulfed misery in close vicinity.