Suddenly I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb. It was a result of years and years of deprivation. Freedom. Independence. I’ve lost interest in things. Something I used to enjoy a few weeks ago feels dry at the moment. It’s all nothing. Useless. I am in a world which does not exist. I have to meet the expectations of people around me; my own expectation. And they feel too heavy. Too much to do, too much to read, too much to write. I feel the strain. I drink a glass of wine, it doesn’t really have an effect. It’s still too much for me. I dont feel like exercising or going to the gym. I don’t know why. I’m trying to find out why I don’t feel like exercising is a normal routine anymore. I feel bored when I do it in the gym. I feel bored walking in the park all by myself. I want some company. I want someone to be with me. I’m lonely. You can probably see it deep down in my eyes, deep in my soul. I’m lonely. I feel like no one truly cares for me. Everyone who is supposed to care for me either tries to manipulate their own ideals on me or expect me to act in a certain way which is not me. They don’t understand me. I want to be understood. To be loved for who I am. Not for what the society seems fit and for all the expectations they set on me. It’s too much to bear. The same old thing repeating again and again. There is no purpose to life. Just a bullshit.
There was a deep sense of contentment in him. He wasn’t married, hardly ever had a girlfriend, he was a 27 year old virgin. Yes, he’d had relationships of course but they never were successful enough to last. That was one of the sorrows he’d endured. He knew he would find someone. Maybe he would have to wait a long time, longer than most of his friends who were already married or had someone and were definitely not virgins. He had attracted all the things that had happened in his life. So, really, he had no one else to blame. He created his own life.
But nonetheless, he was satisfied. Very frighteningly satisfied with who he was. He could drink a cup of coffee, sit with himself for hours, go to a museum and still feel completely happy and joy for the way he lived his life. He was content but felt a pang of loneliness. Loneliness not because he felt lonely, but because of what other people might perceive him to be. He cared a lot about other people.
He had a dark past. The future he knew would get a lot better. He had amended his mistakes for the sins he had committed. Even though he always had problems with maintaining relationships he knew he would get there. Get to the place where most people feel happy in sharing secrets, sharing their life with others. He had a sense of hidden satisfaction, where he didn’t feel the need to share things with other people. He only had to share things with himself, and that made him happy. However, he still wanted to get married, he still wanted to have a wife, a soul-mate, SOMEBODY to call his own! Often he would sing the song “Can anybody find somebody for me” but only in the 4 walls of his room.
There she was. His soul-mate. He knew it, the minute he laid eyes on her that she was the one. They met by accident. But he had to wait, and waiting was something he detested. He hated waiting. I mean, who likes waiting? He had to make the right moves this time. He had to see that it works out.
Lets see what happens in the part 2…….