is something that isn’t new. Something everyone else sees and knowns about despite my constant attempts at pushing it away or making excuses. Funny though. I really did believe we finally moved forward.

Guess I was wrong. This isn’t the first time I’ve been wrong about you either.

Ah.

Life.

It always happens when we happily go around telling everyone how things are finally improving. Reality picks that as a cue to rear its ugly head and slap you back into situations that reveal the painful truth.

The truth still hurts.

Even after 2 years it hurts.

The same old things.

Same old situations.

And same old attitudes.

Still, I sit here waiting and waiting.

Hoping and hoping.

For something nobody else believes possible.

Why?

…

that’s what i am.

.

.

.

I miss you.

-7.40p.m-

Hotel rooms.

I crave them much too often than I should.

And more often than not, I wished I could just check myself in and hide there for a while.

Alone.

But then I wonder, why pay so much money to sink into an unfamiliar bed just to cry myself to sleep?

Fact is, I don’t know.

All I know is, that’s what I wish I could do if I could really afford it.

Hotel rooms.

If they could talk, they would tell you so many different stories. That chair in that corner would have so much to say and those pillows would have a million emotions to share.

What was the previous guest like?

Was he alone? Was he lonely?

Or was he with someone? Someone special or just someone?

What were the thoughts running in every guests head?

Was the previous guest just like me?

Or was he was genuinely happy.

What secrets would the cracking walls whisper and what moving images would the mirrors reflect?

So much goes on.

All that history in the dimly lit rooms I crave.

Even mine becomes a part of that room whos number I will not remember.

Hotel rooms.

I need you more than ever.

It’s crazy how things can happen and change. How the reality of things really show itself in life defining moments such as just now.

“Acceptance”

That’s a strong word to use. Too strong a word and much too highly misunderstood.

It was never acceptance. It was called being emotionally numb. A sorrowful forced kind of acceptance that breaks one’s soul and hurts those around.

I thought I was happy. I just never knew it was at the expense of another in ways I did not wish.

2 years ago I lay in this room, my heart thumping away and my skin tingling in anticipation. I knew what was going to happen. I knew it the moment I sat crying in your arms and I let myself go completely.

Today I am lying in the same room and my heart is thumping as well. Only, this time I’m feeling things you took away that 2 years ago. Only 2 years but sometimes a year can feel so much longer, don’t you agree?

Happy silent 2 years.

It’s time I toughen up.

I believe I have been happy and contented for quite a while now. Or perhaps I had made myself believe that enough to some extent that I became ignorant to everything else.

Most people treasure the weekends. They count the days till friday arrives and dread when it goes away. I dread the start of a new week as well but sadly, I also dread the coming of the weekend.

For many months now, weekends have served nothing but a painful reminder of an innate hate constantly directed at me before escalating into something more. Weekends fly by like the wind for this reason, empty…pointless…and a waste of the week.

I miss my happy cheerful weekends.

I miss not counting down in fear.

And I miss not waking up to a palpitating heartbeat, wary and cautious of everything that will happen in the next 48 hours.

Anger and irritation spreads quicker than a fire. Sadly, it is also much stronger than attempts at sorry and forced smiles.

So now the truth is out.

On weekends, I carry with me a false smile while dragging along a line of emotional baggage that is not really mine.

“Are you happy?”

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.