1:23 a.m.

"If giving leaves you feeling empty, you are giving too much to the wrong person."

Every morning I wake up finding my hands dirty of the mixture of dirt that there on my pair of hands. One night, I decided to stay awake and watch as myself drift into land of dreams -- and I find myself on the ground. Dazed, I was, as I see myself digging back memories that were buried deep down in the belly of the past. Memory, as what many people say, is a funny thing. It's normal, you see, to feel sad over bad memories that come visiting once in a while, but I never thought that happy memories are also capable to make you sad. Where did everything went wrong? What happened to those happy times? How come I've never realized when things started to turn bad? 

You get this obnoxious feeling when you lose someone you were intimate with. Kind of like you never want to be touched again. Or avoiding letting anyone else put their hands where theirs used to be. It becomes a strange process, letting the relationship die over and over again until you can stop hating anything that comes into contact with you that isn’t them. You resent the shower because all the hot water makes you feel like your body was never theirs. You want your insides to become a relic of all the ways they loved you. So it becomes a funny process, you have to bury them and dig them up for every new old thing that you do without them. You say "I love you" to another person and think it’s the worst kind of betrayal. You’re angry at your mouth for enjoying it, you’re angry at your mouth for wanting to say more, and you’re angry at yourself for forgetting what their name tasted like when it comes out of your mouth. That’s how it happens, you barely notice at first. It starts with tiny little things, you forget how they looked in the morning, you forget how your name sounds like coming out of their mouth, you move on and it’s terrifying and it’s glorious but more than that, it’s freeing. Because you thought you’d never have that again, you’d never want someone so much that it felt like drowning and gasping for air was the most wonderful thing you’d ever done.

Ergo it’s absolutely fine, you can say "I am so scared that I will never love someone like I loved you" when they leave, but it won’t be true. It won’t come close to true. It may take weeks, or months, or years, or a lifetime, even to move on. There will be a litany of "fuck, I'm tired of this shit" before you do. But trust me, when you do, you'll reborn and they will be more a part of you than anyone has ever been and you’ll feel glorious and more than that, you’ll feel safe. And here is what you’re going to think: I had that moment with you and I am thankful for it. That is it.

That's it, really,
M. Qarin Al Maduri