An idiot of a late summer

So what am I doing exactly?
I'm in an odd space. I feel drained and empty. Is this the normal kind of empty? Or the not so normal? What is normal anyway?
They said that before someone else loves you, you must love yourself first. I'm not sure how I'm doing on that front. I feel better than I used to. I even congratulate myself for my work at times, which is (believe me) something I didn't use to do. I even think I found my own style in clothes. I am expressing myself. Or so I think. But love still eludes me.
I've managed to detach myself a bit from that person. It still hurts, but I'm containing it. I also though I attracted the attention of someone I found interesting. We do not fit, but there is attraction, and I thought I'd just go for it. And when a week before I thought I made some sudden progress, my heart is sinking in. I think I know that he doesn't care, or he would have made some kind of effort. A small glimpse of something. Or have I become too insecure and impatient, that I can't seem to let things take their time.
I cannot see clearly anymore, but I realize day by day, that I want something easier. I would like to succeed now. Make him call me now. Send a small message. A sign. A something. An anything! It's like whatever I'm wearing I'm invisible, or I'm only see by people I don't care about.
I am tired. I am so tired of this. Make it stop. I don't really wanna try that much. I just want him curious about me, as much as I am about him. Is this so much to ask? Really?

// I've stopped watching romantic comedies btw. Seeing them repulses me. 

And so, you made contact.

And so, you made contact. 

A week and a half, after I wrote about my impulse to reach out, you did it. I didn't do it. I did my part. I held my own. 

And now I am once again half confused, half angry. Why did you reach out? You have a life, one that doesn't include me. Why do you ask for my news? That is not caring, so is it just gossiping?

I've read somewhere that when you feel that something is not right, then it isn't. I believe that. I actually believe that our instincts on people are rarely wrong. So when I feel like you don't really care for me, it must be true.

And so I'm confused, because making contact must mean that you miss something about me, right? However small, I did leave a trace, something you liked enough to make you wanna talk to me.

But I'm also angry. I'm so angry with you. It's hard enough as it is, why do you keep giving me small fractures of hope? What, what, WHAT, do you want from me?

I feel like I'm reading a pointless story. A story written by an amateur that has no idea of the basic rules of writing, there is no plot, no "ending" in its mind, just incoherent spikes of attention. Where is this going? I stopped trying to reach out, my pain is only for me. I stopped not because I'm ethical (I should have been) but because I tried to think for myself and I see no gain in this for me. I'm just hang up on you, and this lingering feeling really isn't benefiting me. You are living your life, can't you just let me live mine? 

Even as I'm writing this, I still want you to reach out again. Like, right now. Talk to me. Please. But, please don't talk me. Just stay away. 

I will not reach out. I promised once, and I intend to keep it. You are probably expecting me to though. Just like you always do. And when you see that I'm not reaching out, then you give it a go. And now because you appeared, you must think that it's fine, it's my turn. Only it's not. It's not my turn. It never is my turn, I will never, never, never, never, never, reach out. Never. I can't do much for myself right now. I can't make me not think about you. I can't make me not respond to you. But I can do this: not text you. I miss you terribly, but I will not text you, because you will not give me what I want anyway. So this is pointless for me. You are getting something out of this communication (although honestly, I don't understand what it is), but I'm definitely getting nothing. So I will not. You can keep expecting, but I will not. 

I miss you.

So people keep asking me what is different with you. Oh, my bad, I meant: what was different with you. You are no longer part of my life after all. {To be honest, where you ever part of it at all?} 

In any case, I can sum it up in one sentence: I felt relief to be myself around you. There were the occasional white lies of course, to impress you, but overall I was just happy to be myself. You made me feel worthy, in the sense that I didn't have to "be more" or "be less" of anything. I didn't have to be more smart, or less smart, more of a grown up, less sense of humor. More or less, I felt that you approved of what I already was. I didn't need to "fix myself" around you. I was enough. 

I've read in articles that you no one can make you truly happy, unless you are already happy with yourself. It must be true, because I'm never quite pleased with what I am. Maybe this is the reason why I'm still on my own. Which is why it was a relief that you somehow liked what I already was.

Your smile and your eyes, the sound of your voice, I miss it so much. The gaze that never wavered when you were speaking to me or listening to me. I would be looking at the ground but not you. You were looking directly at me. I felt relief, and I felt safety. The effortless way in which you made me smile, I miss it too. 

I miss you so much. Oh, how I miss you. 

It's been 7 weeks of no contact, and I feel like grabbing the phone every minute now. But I will not do it. Because I know. And when you know, you can't fake ignorance. At least not forever. You are half the world away. You are so far away, but now you feel even further. Like you are unreachable. A figment of my imagination, a game that my mind played while I was trying to navigate this big city last summer.

I don't know if you miss me. I regret to say that you probably aren't. At least, there is no sign of it, so I can't really know. And if I can't know, then I must assume that you aren't. But I miss you. I miss you so much. Oh, how I miss you.

The thing with the thing

It's amazing how fast time flies, and I still feel like I'm lingering in the exact same moment. I can feel my outer self changing, everyone around me evolving and my inner self in a limbo. What is moving on? How do you get over the things in your head, and how do you feel whole again? 

I was roaming around the city today. By myself. A tourist in my own town. I used to do that too when I was abroad, working in the summer. It relaxed me, and made me feel somewhat content. Today the urge of not returning home, kept me outside again. I finished work so I said I'll indulge myself. One thing led to another and here I was, 6 hours later, having done everything by myself. It's not that I don't like solitude. I seek it at times. I'm a person of the edges: I can go from extreme socializing to totally alone. Today I'm not going out for drinks. I chose myself and I'll stick to it. I need to heal. Only I cannot find where the wound is. I'm aching but from where? I've been hearing from people that I put too much on myself. I demand too much. That could be true, I think maybe I drain myself on my own. I am myself's worst enemy. Me and the thoughts in my head. I need to breathe. Freely, from my chest but I don't know how. I just wanna be free again. I keep looking at the sky, thinking of airplanes. At times like these I always want to run away. Run away and disappear. Maybe in a new place, with new people I can breathe again. But is it really my surroundings' fault? Maybe it is me that is making it hard for me. I just don't feel enough. But now matter how far you go, you can never get away from yourself. So if the problem is me, running away will not solve it. But is it me? Or am I self-blaming myself again? If only I could stop thinking all the time. If only I could just breathe.

I want to think of nothing. Nothing. I want to feel my brain empty. Like my heart. I know it sounds a bit sad but it's really not as bad as it sounds. My head feels heavy from my thoughts. I just want it to go away, be empty and light again. Don't think. Don't blame. Just be.

Note to you.

I am leaving you.
You though, you don't know it yet. Where you are is only 4 PM on a Friday. You are getting ready for the weekend. You are casually checking your instagram. You are walking towards your desk. You are saying good bye to your colleagues. You are wrapping up the emails of the week. You are silently touching your beard. You are smiling and thinking of something. You are calm and collected. You are waiting for my message tomorrow. You will get it. You won't know it's for the last time.
You, you are nothing but a figment of my imagination.

Who are you?

Lately, I keep standing in front of mirrors, looking at my reflection with a bit of a hesitation. Who is this person staring at me? The face seems familiar, but the personality always seems to elude me. She doesn't seem sad, she doesn't seem happy, she just seems absent. But I can see her, so how can she be absent?

A new year on the run, a ton of things too do, so little time to do it, and I just stand there - watching Netflix and self-destructing from my inability to make a move. To be honest, I am baffled. I know I have to move but I am not sure where I need to go - so I just stand here, with myself, unable to make a step. I've noticed some 'loner' vibes. I do nothing, and I tend to wanna stay at home, inside, by myself. And no matter how much time I spend with myself it doesn't seem enough. It's not my first time in a limbo, but every time it happens I still don't know how to handle it. There is the urgency, the voice that keeps me alert that says "wake up, your deadlines are here, you are destructing yourself, by yourself , wake up'. I know the voice is right, but I still can't move. I feel drained and a bit tired. It's a weird kind of tired, since I'm actually not doing anything to get me tired to begin with. 

So who are you, I ask myself in the mirror every single day. What do you want? How can I wake you up? What do you need?  I need an answer.