Not Okay.

by 19:38 0 comments

“You know how when you’re in a car and it’s pouring down rain, you go under a bridge and everything stops. Everything goes silent and it’s almost peaceful. Then you finally get from under the bridge, and everything hits you a little harder than before.
You were my bridge.”

If there is one thing in life that we cannot have, it is permanence. 

I’d always known that but that never stopped me from believing in its illusion. 

You changed that.

I don’t believe in permanence anymore. And I never really will.
You made sure of that. 

I’ve decided that I deserve better and as hard it is for me to admit, I have decided to let go.

Am I okay, you ask?

I don’t know what to say. 

Do you want me to lie? 

Because I can lie very well now. I know how to lie now. 

But I will tell you the truth, just, because you deserve to know it.

The answer’s no. I’m not okay anymore. To be honest, I’m not okay at all and I don’t think I will ever be. You made sure of that.

But what I do know is that I like being not okay. I’m okay not being okay. And I’m happy not being okay. At this point of time, what more could I ask for?

Because not being okay is much better than knowing that I’m okay and hoping against hope that I’ll be okay when I wake up the next day when that never really happens.


It’s all very transitional, you know?

One day, you’re okay and everything’s fine. Things are going the way you want them to, a bit at least if not entirely.
And then the very next second, everything falls apart. Nothing is the way you want it to be. You’re falling to pieces and then you're just pieces.
You’re a mess, a chaos of optimistic hopelessness and you’re holding on to something that doesn’t belong to you anymore.



You’re holding on to illusions, to delusions someone else handed over to you.
You’re holding on to moments you’ll never get back and to memories you’ll never be a part of again.
You’re holding on to days when everything was perfect and days when you thought everything was perfect.
You’re holding on to non-existential symphonies and wishing that you could play a song on these broken chords and silent notes.

Nothing feels the same anymore.
And nothing ever really will. 

...

I can’t breathe anymore.

The silence is getting louder. These walls are closing in.  And breathing is suffocating.

I don’t remember the last time I felt relieved.
Nothing feels like home anymore, except pain.

And being broken feels more like me than anything else ever could.  

I thought I could heal on paper, but now, I guess, that that was just another delusion that I was harbouring in my heart.

I told you, I’m not okay. And I probably never will be. But that’s fine with me.
I like being not okay and I know that that’s all I could ever ask for.

Thank you, for hearing me out! 

I’m just in the worst place right now, but what’s worse is that this place feels like home, my home.

I have to go now. My heart’s suffocating me, beating without reason or cause.
And I cannot breathe anymore.

I wish you were here for me, though.
But then again, I wish a lot of things.

This is not our goodbye, you know? I don’t have the power to say a goodbye right now. I need time. Some more time. And I’m not giving up just yet. And maybe that’s what hurts the most. Not giving up.

Till then,                                             
Love,
Or not so much today,  

Emm.