The only benefit I can see to being sick is that you have alot of time to yourself to think as you’re lying there feeling physically horrible. But when you’re a person who has a lot on his mind about the life he leads and the crossroads which he constantly stands at every second of every moments, sometimes being physically horrible is much better than what goes through your mind.
I suppose you can’t help it either way.
But of course, now that I’m at work spreading the home borne pestilence amongst my friends and colleagues, I can instantly feel better that sooner or later people will soon share any revelations that they have as they lie down with only their thoughts in their head in about a week or so.
So to kick things off…here are my own revelations.
It’s becoming increasingly obvious that I have to deal with my own single life by my own terms. It’s also becoming increasingly obvious that I’ve been socialising just as much to compensate for my own intimacy deprived life. I’m just thinking, being back in the game after so long, as everyone said so far for a person like me…it’s just natural to just slip right in like it was second skin.
But yet at the same.
It’s just so empty.
It’s nice talking to interesting funny people. It’s nicer to talk to people who remind you of your ex in many ways. It’s nice from just flaunting your smile and those witty one liners with relative ease to whispering about a secret joke too obscene for the crowd to hear. It’s nice and that’s the problem.
It’s just nice.
There is a sense of emptiness when I turn back to laugh it off with her in my mind and find no one by my own back. The sense of emptiness as my hands are always in my pockets instead of between her fingers or around her waist. The sense of emptiness as my shoulder or tummy doesn’t have her head resting on it after a long weary day. The sense of emptiness knowing she has her own substitutes and I stand alone smiling however I can to get through this.
If the price is tasting a slice of heaven is that you can never go back to a normal existance. Then whoever said it was right. Every thought and action will always go back to how obvious your life was incomplete before it all came together. All you can do to keep smiling is in the assurance that at least you’re getting something out of it.
That at least you’re good enough to be around people who’d laugh with you rather than at you.
Then again…that is part of life isn’t it?
To reach a point that says this is what it means to be all grown up. Where you have to go on no matter what personal shit happens and go on with a smile dispite all the shattered shards of your emotional existance.
All I can do is smile and laugh at what passes me by.
I may not be the greatest pretender to cover the empty place in my heart and soul.
But I know I’m getting better at it.
That’s what the game is all about.