On the other side of the curtains, there is darkness, blackness and silence. On this side there is light, laughter and chaos. The laptop is singing “…so I love you when you’re not listening…..”, the night lamp is flickering, the mirror of the dresser is starkly watching the walls, the bed is filled with trash, dirty laundry, chocolate wrappers, a diary and few pen. It is crowded but empty. I am not lonely but it feels numb. Beyond the curtains is shield, I can spread my arms wide and embrace the night, kiss the breeze and love without being afraid to loose.
I opened my cupboard, I saw a book lying at the leftmost corner over a pile of unwrapped clothes, some jeans and dirty shirts. I put my hand forward, almost touching the book. I am not a fan of thriller and action, but I had already read the book twice. For me it was the person behind the book, holding fond memories buying it. I touched it, almost, and suddenly in response to an inbuilt reflex I pulled my hand back. Closed the cupboard.
Amidst the trash lying on the bed, I spotted my phone, recklessly planning to embaress me, conspiring to humiliate me, mock me and destroy my pride, of which I was totally unaware of. I was numb for a while, as if there was a force, apart from me, but acting through me. It picked up the phone and sent a message “how are you?”
And I instantly regretted it.