I have declared war on my stars--yes, the ones in the sky directing my life without my permission. I am at a loss to understand the turn of events that have led me to be loveless, jobless, and friendless. I did everything right--by the book, more than what the book prescribed, beyond the call of duty and creative pursuit. Yet, I get up everyday alone, eat alone, get groceries alone, come back to a lifeless home. I find distractions, yes. But those I find distractions with leave to go home to someone, someone who has planned a surprise for them, or has cooked them a meal, or is there to ask you how your day or night was. I walk in to silence. I am so afraid of silence now that I sleep with the noise of a humidifier and a fan and when I get up I switch on my iRadio and my TV. Despite the superimposed sounds I can still hear myself think, strip apart the events that have led me here. And I have no answer. I don't know who does.
My mother comforts me. My brothers do too. But I cannot help but drop into a dark pit of self-pity every now and then. I don't see a light anywhere that tells me the darkness is temporary. Nothing is moving. Everything is still. I don't even know where to start excavating for what everyone convinces me is treasure except its hidden in the remotest part of the world or the underworld even.
I try everyday to be happy. But how does one do that if the circumstances are anything but happy. I'd like to think that what I am going through is nothing compared to what some others go through. But everyone I know seemingly have seamless lives--marriage, kids, jobs, vacations--everything usual that every human being should have. Maybe I am not a human being--that could be a serious possibility. I am that robot from Aliens who labors endlessly even when body less yet is a robot so will not have a human life ever. I think of all the boyfriends who found girlfriends after me only to cling on to them for a lifetime. Was I not cling-worthy? Do I repel love?
I am angry with the universe. So angry. I want to kick and scream and kick again. But who is to witness my breakdown? No one. Like no one is a witness to the life I have led so far. I think I have known for sometime that I am meant to be alone in my life. Its time to accept that. I can keep trying to make my life better and keep watching the universe turn every attempt into a joke or I can accept it is a joke and let it all go.
I am exhausted. I am not this brave to keep breaking my head against the brick wall hoping it will break before my head does. The textural dissimilarities ought to banish hope.