NIGHT 8: NO, I DON’T HAVE ANY PLANS WITH YOU

I was almost convinced that at this point in time, after our cohabiting became the intimidating star theme of all my introspective sessions, you were aware of the fact that I find you disturbing. That you and I have a well rooted toxic and deteriorating relationship that should be terminated without giving it a second thought.

I thought you knew. Why are you giving me that look?

Ok so, am I supposed to believe that you are indeed, this naive? That you kept coming day after day to my door, nevermind where in the World I had moved, and you were able to find me each time just out of your developed sixth sense telling you that I was calling for you? That then you would make yourself comfortable on my couch, on my bed, on my chairs, in the balcony, or the kitchen or the freaking elevator, thinking all the while that I was anxiously expecting you and had some loving plans with you for our future?

How delusional.

No, I don’t have any plans with you.

Actually, I never did; allow me to remind you that you appeared and stayed in my life without consulting me if I wanted you in it or not. It wasn’t something we agreed on; hell, how many times have you seen me crying and howling for you to leave me alone and get out of my sight?

Right; I’m gonna pour us something stronger tonight, we both need it. Tea won’t do it.

I hear you, though. Having your illusions crashed into pieces feels awful. Your blood pressure goes low, so low that in that very moment when you are in between losing consciousness and feeling all the physical sensations of being deprived of controlling your own body, you are questioning whether you will die or not. Your mind starts to wonder and dissatach, you dissociate and float… You can hear your heart beating fast, but you are unable to bring yourself back into your skin; you know you have to surrender to whatever destiny may be holding for you. So you decide to let go, you stop fighting, you go numb.

But you should know well how that feeling goes; or is it that being a soul reaper demands from you to witness your butchery while feeling unrelated to your executing hand?

Deep questions, yea. Have you ever thought about going to therapy? Again, introspection is such a gift…

Here, bring your glass.

We have a whole bottle of vodka to analyze ourselves over.

I promise you, you won’t feel better. But surely, you will be fully convinced that it’s worth it to give it a try.