Run

I have been having the urge to just run away from everyone and everything around me. To just step out of the life that I’m living. To stand out and see my life as it passes by.

To vanish, sublimate, disappear.

I celebrated my birthday in obscurity, in the midst of a forest where there was no cell reception, no internet, no electronic devices. Ample amount of sunshine, star gazing, dense forests, incessant chirping of birds, campfires and books, blankets and blankness.

Then I rang in the new year in a city that I fell in love with, mostly ate bun maska, watched the sun set, the leaves of calendar turn, the sea as the world went past, of singing at 1 in the night and not a care about what next.

And since I’ve been back, the only thing that I can think of is to run away. I don’t know to what, to whom, with whom, where, when, how, why. So many questions. And just no answers.

I zone out with people who talk relentlessly, sit cradling a cup of strong chai and just stare into space wondering if I’ll ever feel the rush of something, whether I’ll feel something maybe ever fall in love, the lala land type, if the pain will ever go away.

I stare at the fan above and remember the ceilings of all the rooms I’ve ever slept in, some I’ve spent hours staring at in the darkness, some have been marred by tears streaming down my eyes, finding their way and disappearing in my hair, some of them have the loudest laughs, the chorus singing and most of them with books with dog eared pages perched on my chest lost deep in thought.

This year there will be some and then more..

Single Pringle vs Double Trouble

More often than not, I think about saviors, better halves as they are called vaguely. Those who lend a shoulder, sometimes an ear to your sorrows, wipe your tears, make you laugh, leave a blush on your cheeks, throw you in a mad fit of rage, unlock the green gremlins of jealousy yet send a thousand violins to play in sync on the arrival of their thoughts.

And then I read a hundred words, on how you should be your own person, pick up your crumbs, build walls, and abandon that ship wreck of a life that you have, put on a life jacket, swim a mile and set off for a new island, to build it all up from scratch.

Is it unreal that we have such high expectations from others or such low ones from ourselves?

There are days that I want to curl myself up like a cat on someone’s lap, some days when you need that one hug, smile, and pat of comfort. And no, this isn’t something that you’d get from just anybody, a flurry of tingles and goosebumps that automatically sets and signifies the presence of a particular person.

Other days when I pick up my sword (my backpack that I carry everywhere), put on a brave face, line my eyes with kohl to underline the message and set off to war. With an armory of jokes on what fun it is to be single (I’d give it a 10% fun limit), and come up with an automatic defense mechanism. You find someone inching dangerously close to the single talk territory, you push/shove/trump them in their race by coming up with witty one liners/humor on the apathy of being single.

All this fight, watching public display of affection, listening to other’s ‘Aww’ love stories leaves you injured, and chocolate turns into your immediate relief balm.

They say don’t actively search for love, it’s supposed to hit you in the face when you least expect it and jerk away the carpet right underneath your feet, now that is exactly how you fall head over heels in love.

But they also add that you attract what you think, hence forth keep yourself in that frame of mind, to attract yourself a man (yeah, right!?) Honestly enough right now I could go and pull a guy by his hand and attach 2 huge unlike pole magnets just with the intention to attract and it would immediately repel and deflect and zoom a thousand kilometers tangent.

In all this wishing, praying, hoping, giving up nonsense, what do you really do?

Do you wait for prince charming to finally give up that he has no clue on directions, use the damn GPS and track his way back to you or do you decide it’s high time that he show up, pack a few sandwiches for the road and pull him back on track by his ears?