You can feel again....

There's one thing you've come to learn. We're all mad.  Seriously . All of us. All our conversations should be centered on trying to figure out just how mad the person sitting across from us is. Some of us think, "Well it's them. They're mad. I'm the normal one. Why can't people be more like me ?" Others take pride in being weird( and miss the irony that that's probably the most average impulse of them all), others simply pay it no mind and keep themselves busy with work or twerking.

For you, well you always knew you were a little mad , but growing up has shown you just how crazy you are. Some of it might be considered whimsical or harmless like your disdain for all things pit bull or how you can find comedy in dark and terrible ideas or how you're the most outgoing introvert I know.

Your other madness is a little more subtle. It's what causes you to sabotage my own happiness. It's what makes you seek out the familiar despite wanting something new;  wanting to be independent and yet longing to be needed; wanting to be heard but embarrassed about speaking up on what really matters. And in all these, you found a way to reason it away. You could be numb.

"You're just a guy. That's natural. Or, you wise man, You see the world for what it is and won't indulge in silly distractions . "

And the biggest distraction of all-relationships, was not spared this mask. You know, the ones where you nauseate everyone else around you-when you become a silly silly version of yourself prone to flights of fancy and spewing silly promises about catching explosives for the person you care for , or scaling mountains and even , gasp, putting pen to paper and writing the most god awful poetry.

No no, that's not for you. I mean, how? You're  too rational. You pine for the good ole days when these things were about duty , family and practicality. and love was for the fools. "We are all just mammals trying to make it through so , enjoy this short life to the max ", I thought. And it worked. You manage to have a simulacrum of fun and life and intimacy. And you can still count yourself independent, free to do as you wished."Sure", you say, " my heart strings had been tugged at a time or two, but I was young and my blood raged with passion. Of course I was susceptible. Not now...Ha...Not now."

Not again.

It's a strange thing when you get heart broken. I mean you know it in theory but when it hits, oh boy does it hit. As an adult t hurts even more because most of us is a facade. Not so much to pretend and lie to people but to survive the harshness of life from other scared, proud flesh bags called humans. Sensibility covers up sensitivity, carefree indulgence covers up insecure need...Face book, Instagram, Snap chat..All these allow you to curate how you're seen. You can be the version of yourself you actually wish you are. And people can envy you...They can like you...That fast food of affection called adoration can rush through your veins with every liked status, every lol..and you can feel...whole. But then it comes up again, the need. The fear, and so you start curating again. You go out, you drown it in activity, in sex , in spending every second being too stimulated and entertained to actually feel the dread.


But then it happens, you get caught off guard. You find a reason to set aside that mask. You are suddenly wondering if this is the person  ; the one who will ignite your brain as well as your loins. Sure it starts off simple enough. You chuckle and flirt and that ego of yours is fed. But then you realize-hey there's more here. That's when you;re in fucking trouble, mate. When you want to whisper to them -when you feel like they see you...and then you start to delude yourself that they are perfect. That they can make everyday seem like a sunset on the equator. Like a perfect song. You're crushing...like an idiot.


So you flee. And wisely so...Crushes are selfish . They deify people. Build people up to suit your own fantasies. They don't exist to perfectly fit you. No sir, that's to de-humanize a person by making them the personification of your desire. So you begin to demolish those images. "Shya...she's just a person. there's plenty of them in the sea. ", you say swigging from a beer in a foreign land. You stop trying to drown out the dread and drown that thing growing in you. The one that's shooting past your brain and into your soul.

Time passes and you see them again. After a few episodes of being "lost"...They're incredible. Has anyone ever smelled so sweet. Has laughter always been a song. With an embrace that pauses the world. No no no...not this again you say to yourself. But now, your brain turns against you. Where once he was on hand with reasons to let go..he has reasons to stay. He shows you how you've grown because of her. How she's not familiar. She's not the broken love you learned as a child, not the drama that you on some level bring into your life because at least you understand it...She represents something new. She's unmasking you.


No. How. Can it be? Do you like her...like really like her? What the fuck...Are you twelve? So you begin to wrestle with your demons...?It grows everyday she goes from being an earthbound angel, to be a heaven-bound sinner...With real thoughts, and views. With a heart that's good but flawed. One you could teach and one you could learn from. Then you wonder if she could be yours.

You try to venture at it. You say it to her. softly...Subtly...So much so you wonder if, she's heard you. But then you realize, you were bidding your time for too long. She's no longer gazing at you. But another...You fool.

You try to see if she looks at him the way she looked at you. It seems like she does. You can hardly swallow your saliva. It feels like cement. Every where you look you see her. The madness sets in. You try to figuire out how to steal her back. How to show her the scars from the inner turmoil that you've just gone through. You fail to realize that your inner war hurt more than you, it scarred her too.

So then there you sit..watching as if a sad bizarre movie as the person , the one that brought this feeling to you again . Floats away. You say to yourself, "See what happens when you try! You fool". The wall starts to come up again...but this time not so high. Because even though the pain is there. Even through the worst that could happen , happened...at least...you have grown. You were ready. Not just in your heart but in your head. You were going for it. You still hope for it. Hope she's fighting for you . Hope she's going through it too.  Like an idiot....you can finally feel again.