5:20 am

tokyo

 

My father’s illness worries me deeply, but what can I do except talk to him and make him feel loved. That’s all anyone wants really, regardless of whether or not they’re suffering from cancer. To have someone tell them how much they mean to them, and never to take them for granted. I do my best, but it’s never enough, I know. I’ve been in relationships where love was plentiful, but I was always far too self-absorbed for things to last. It’s the underlining flaw in my personality. Pushing people away, and then complaining about being lonely; letting inner demons run wild while seeking to succeed with writing. Ah, writing, that dirty word that’s had me laughed at more times than I care to remember. Every morning I drag myself into work knowing I’m one step closer to achieving my dreams, but it’s such a long journey. My ability is getting better every day, and yet the struggle is one that drains the life out of me. It leaves me exhausted and unable to enjoy even the simplest of things, yet I continue because it gives me meaning, because without putting my guts down onto paper, there would be no way of differentiating me from anyone else. My existence would mean nothing, and when the lights went out, the world would spin regardless. Writing is my way of making a stand; only I wish it wasn’t such a damned one. The repetition. The isolation. I wish I worked in a bank, or as an estate agent. Wish I could do something without having to dig deep day after day with only other people’s derision to keep me company. I’m haunted by all those I’ve hurt, yet the only way I can make it up to them is to keep on writing. So many drunken thoughts, so many promises broken and left buried in the dirt. If only you could be here with me now. If only you could feel the frustration that knows no end. Despite everything, it’s always been you, and as the faith in my veins bubbles, know that you were with me every step of the way. Despite the silence, you were my focus. Despite all the messed up scenarios, you were my everything as the shadows closed in. This fragile man, breaking in a time of misguided replies. Put the pieces of our love back together again. Help me make amends for all my mistakes. Hold me close and don’t let the darkness swallow me like it has so many times before.

9 replies »

  1. These words of yours hit home. Very sorry about your father. I am still numb from my father’s passing. Cancer. Six letters that have destroyed my ability to behave as an adult. Not that I care to be one. Well a functional one for that matter. Write it all, every moment every tear, every smile. Place all of your emotions in the most elevated parts of your home, reach for them when you feel sorrow, joy, anything really. Much love to you, Mari.

    • Thank you, that means a lot to me. I hope you’re dealing with your father’s passing in the best possible way. I guess it’s all part of the journey, isn’t it? For me, for you, for everyone. Hopefully, the words will continue to come and I can express myself every step of the way. No time for keeping these emotions locked away anymore. I hope you are well tonight x

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