When you receive a gift of consolation, how are you supposed to feel? Proud, that at least you have been recognised? Or... But circumstances vary. Time and again, if I feel as though their thoughtfulness is but a consolation to acknowledge my existence, then I'd rather not receive such a prize.
Shouldn't I be thankful if people still keep me in their minds? Minds... But not in their hearts.
Losing touch with the people of the past, your faint presence resurfaces as a WhatsApp group chat tag. It reminds them that you are still there, and it reminds you of your ineptitude in forming relationships.
My loneliness, it seems, stems not from the bliss of being alone, but from the loss of faith in human relations. Even before I make an effort to build a relationship, I've already given up unconsciously. Intensifying this hopelessness are the friends at university who share the same sense of loneliness but cannot open their hearts. It makes me think that perhaps what we need isn't formal education. I can't tell you what should be in place of it, but it is certain that so long as our institutions stand the way they are now, we're never graduating from loneliness.
You can tell me I look nice, my outfit is killer, and that my eyeshadow is on point, but flattery flies over the head, never coming close to even grazing the surface of the chest that hides the heart.
Socialising and smiling all day long, I realise how narrow hearts are while how wide the world is. Each of us are hiding our sorrows away as easily as we tuck a lock of hair behind our ears. Those creases by the eyes, and the water by the rim, aren't they all thoughts we wished would disappear as soon as the teardrop touched the earth?
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