i once thought august would just be a moment—something i could reminisce about and laugh at, as i always do with the past. but then it became my present, and last month hit me like a kick to the gut. i lost it to the void of "i've wasted away my youth," a thought that's gnawed at me until it became the truth.
january was a complete myriad of emotions. my ayeeyo is staying over now, and we share a room. there’s comfort in her presence—the tea times, the constant dhikr, the way we sit in the dark, wrapped in silence that feels more like understanding than emptiness. the rhythm of making and serving food for her is satisfying in a way i can’t fully explain. at first, her stories were inspiring, but then i noticed certain behaviours from my family, and memories from the last time she visited came flooding back.
you’d be washing the dishes and realize your cheeks were wet too. you’d be trying to read, and all of a sudden, your throat croaks when you speak. you stop being excited to hang out with anyone or even eat anything because you don’t have the appetite for good food or conversations. nothing and no one means anything to you, and everything you do from now on is tinted with this unsurmountable amount of sadness.
the most irritating bit of it all is the fact that you try to convince yourself you have it all handled. you’re an adult now; you should know how to handle grief. but as always, the words "i don’t think i’ve ever felt this sad before" stir in your mind until it does happen again, and you feel an even more overwhelming piece of pain.
in the midst of all things happening, i've decided to become more conscious of my actions, i did so much to let myself hold onto some sort of will to live yet nothing worked. i shall not seclude myself because i will at some point unironically find some reason to shoot myself in the head.
