Regret

Regret. Remorso. Repentir. Bedauren. Lamento.

It's what keeps you up at night. It's what makes you cringe when a memory passes in front of your eyes. It's the worst feeling in the world. It's something you cannot erase. It's something you'll carry with you all your life. You'll have to live with it like the scar you got from falling over on the same place every time. It's like those invisible bruises that hurt more than the blue blobs that show up on your skin.

There's no control over it. You cannot stop it from coming and the pain never gets less. You just learn to act like it hurts less. You learn not the flinch your face when it attacks your heart like someone crushed it in their hand.

I wish could believe that one day I'll wake up and be able to repeat Edith Piaf's words 'Je ne regrette rien' but that's like believing that one day you'll see a unicorn. 

Pandora's Box

Isn't it awfully funny when you get that sadness deep in your heart for no apparent reason? Isn't it hilarious when in a few minutes you can go from being ok to being miserable? And isn't it extremely hilarious that your scumbag brain won't even allow you to cry though you're crawled up in a ball on your bed? I mean really what better way to end the day?

It's a big void. Like stepping into a black hole. It eats all you give and is never placated. Nothing soothes you tattered soul. Not writing this blog, not listening to your favourite songs, not even your little soft toy-like puppy. And when you think it’s too much, then and only then, the vortex of memories comes. And not one by one, no. They seem not to have learnt what staying in line means. Instead it’s a blast to the past, a blitz in your brain, enough to leave you vegetable, not enough to numb you.

And my brain face palm’s itself in disappointment. My heart sighs as it steadies itself for yet another long night, as the world around me turns black and I lay on my bed waiting for sleep.

Horrible unexplained emptiness. Loneliness when there are people who love you. Despair when you have everything. Anger toward yourself for being so stupid. Emotions. A lidless Pandora’s Box. And just a pinch of hope that tomorrow will be a better day.

I'm left rocking myself to and fro on my bed, a tearless face, an aching heart, a lost soul.