“Can I have some coffee please? And I trust this time, it will be only coffee”.
I was not surprised, not in the crushing way I had imagined all along. I was coming to terms with it, painfully slowly.
And a month after settling in this new city, I am still coming to terms with it. Sometimes I get worried and I can’t sleep, and at other times I shrug it all off effortlessly and get on with the show.
Sometimes I take in as I am taken in by the glitter and glitterati of this new place, and at other times I disappear in a dark and damp corner to quietly look at the scars of another life.
Delirium is digressive as it is distressing. Sometimes I watch myself disintegrate, disbelievingly, while at other times I observe myself gathering every piece of my scattered self from the floor, putting it back in its place, ready to fly high again.
Where is the consistency I wonder exasperatedly! Whatever happened to the equilibrium of being and centrality of thoughts?
I look into the mirror and there are so many of me – laughing, crying, staring… dying. Which one of them am I really? Or am I all of them? If that is the case, then where am I?
I don’t think of him a lot. I shut the doors tight when his thoughts come knocking. Only sometimes they seep through a half open window and sometimes they force their way in when I am too exhausted putting up a defense.
He’s a coward I remind myself. He chose the easy way out.
But I know better. Perhaps one day I will reason myself into forgiving him… when my reasonability finds a fixture to base itself on.