An Honest Confession
I haven’t written in these past few months. I haven’t brewed any coffee in about 2 months, though sometimes I bring myself to my regular coffee slow bar to indulge my taste buds. Books bore me. I could only finish an article or two from a collection of essays, and I’d put it back on my backlog again. So much heartbreak could do to you, eh?
I’ve felt like the world doesn’t have much to offer anymore. Whatever things I’ve observed out there, nothing has amused me. Whatever I’ve done, it hasn’t affected reality out there much. That’s why I chose to observe myself these past few weeks That one thing that I’ve always chosen to avoid: observing myself.
I’ve questioned myself with questions I’d often ask others, such as “Who are you?” or “How are you?” or “What do you truly want?” These simple questions confuse me already. I’ve sought answers to meet a dead end. I’ve realized that I don’t have any answers. Everyone I’ve come across and am close to has those answers, and every time I learn about their answers, the less I see what I can do and what I want.
I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how I’m feeling.
How are you?
A simple question of “How are you?” and I don’t know the answer. What a total joke. I’d bet that my past self would be crying in the corner of a room knowing that I’m his future self. If I had to answer, I feel numb. I don’t feel angry or miserable, neither good nor bad. I’ve felt everything, but I couldn’t do anything about it. It’d be better if I felt nothing.
I’ve tried seeing someone from dating apps, but it hasn’t worked at all. I couldn’t say that I didn’t see it coming, but nothing could’ve prepared me for just how bad it felt. Deep down in my heart, I knew. I always knew. But I had hope. I hoped it would change so deeply.
My friend told me that no matter how alone and miserable you are, there’s still someone who cares; you’re never as alone as you think you are. What a load of bull. I wish I could’ve said that straight to his face, but I’ve always been a coward. The thing is, it doesn’t matter if someone cares if the problem is in my head. Nothing I do can change it; nothing I do makes a difference. And now, look at me, my inability to change reality makes me miserable. It’s not a question of others loving or caring for you. If only it were, it would be so much easier to deal with.
God, what have I missed in this life? Where did I start to mess things up? I was told I could write my fate — Yet here I am, knowing I can never change what’s already written.
What do you want?
I want to be happy, but my head doesn’t stop thinking about things that make me miserable. I crave love but reject it whenever I feel it’s coming my way. I long for people to understand me, but I shut them away and maintained the distance. I want to be in a relationship but never give a damn to nurture it, and I end up sabotaging it. Whenever a conflict happens, I distance myself from reality and cut them off.
The desire to love deeply and be detached from it all. The indecision of walking down the path of solitude and the desperate need for companionship. Wanting everything and at the same time wanting nothing — I’m a paradox.
I’ve wanted to talk about it. How odd it is that I can have all this inside me, and to you, it’s just words. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell. I wanted to shout. I wanted to, at least, whisper that I’m fine. But I couldn’t. And I was left with nothing to say. Fuck it. I’m so deeply lost in my own soul.
I don’t know what I truly want. If anything, I want to be free. Free from my past.
Who are you?
I used to be someone. I’m writing this to remember who I was, but whenever I reminisce about memories from the past, it’s hard to believe I ever lived those stories.
Kab. Tangerang, September 9th 2023
M. Bayu Bajra
