Story 5: From doubt til dawn
The doubt started to creep in slowly.
I went through (for the hundredth time) all our messages, conversations and interactions and all of them had the same underlying meaning that you were pretty content with whatever there was in the form it was and didn’t give a toss about making it fuller, bigger and making ‘us’. I felt so stupid for mistaking all our laughs, long nights, sweet talk and jokes as you caring. It daunted on me – I am a lunatic, a dreamer, an insane moron.
Did I feel sorry for myself? No, never, but I felt deeply betrayed. After all you were there watching me being a moron. But you could have said something decent if it was that obvious and stopped me from my lunacies before it was too late!
A deep and dark feeling of betrayal, it is beyond disappointment, it is beyond grief, it is when the heart is in shock, devastated. It’s when you uncover your biggest inner fear and have to face it there and then and nobody is there to protect you, it’s a direct blow into the core, into the most tender area. Moreover, I wish it was just a bullet, instead it felt like a tumour invaded my romantic and loving heart, rooted itself there, sucked all the life from it and spread uncontrollably affecting all of me with incredible speed, yet without eventually killing but causing immeasurable pain and suffering, slow and irreversible destruction. I wanted to hide myself off the face of this earth, I wanted to seal myself in a bomb proof shell, isolate myself completely from the world. I wanted to isolate myself from myself and my grief, I suppressed it with bottles of wine and tons of food, which made me even more depressed and miserable but it was my compensation. From dusk til dawn was most depressing time because it was dark, it was scary, it was a living nightmare.
I felt like a child abandoned by his parents, his only stability, like taking the ground from underneath his feet, like taking his spinal cord out so can’t even stand up. An abandoned child is helpless, he doesn’t know why he is abandoned and it’s something that is completely out of his control. Wasn’t he good enough to be kept? What could he possibly have done wrong to be written off so abruptly, why didn’t they love him as parents do for being their child and for loving them back with all his heart? He could have been the perfect kid, the model kid with good marks, the high achiever who cherished and thanked his parents every day for bringing him to life and caring. Yet, they decided they didn’t want him, just like that. He wanders, he grieves, he feels empty and dead. He carries it with him and he buries it deep down, suppresses it as much as he can because dealing with it is physically impossible.
The suppression can’t be contained forever and eventually it erupts, the magma of emotions expels with unprecedented force. It is a combination of boiling anger, burning bitterness and raging aggression. From dead I resurrected into a foaming and raving maniac. It was as if I was infected with rabies!