Aida Zabidi

He tells me it feels like a fantasy and I feel exactly the same way, wrapped in this beautiful bubble of bliss and ignorance, suspended in a reality of my own choosing.

I want to tell him it is my fantasy, not his, for he still has one foot planted firmly in life, whereas I am just hiding within my own fears, wanting life to pass me by in this exact moment, wanting to lose myself and hide behind this wall of insecurities. I want to tell him that I like the moment, because it makes me feel safe, because I know when the idyll is over I will have to face myself once again.

I cannot say the words.

The world seems so bleak at times, from the dull skies to the cold morning fog. It drains my mood before I even have a chance. The way I feel is not abnormal, it is seasonal, and comes and goes with the cycle of the four seasons, and I can anticipate the beginning of the blunting of my emotions, and withdrawal,

I want to be Rip Van Winkle, and sleep for a hundred years and let the world pass me by, because at times, it feels exactly like that; as if I have lost track of time, and months have passed in the blink of an eye. It feels like a struggle trying to remember when I have last spoken to the ones I love most, and a struggle trying to keep that momentum.

This too shall pass.

We all have our challenges, and this is mine.

And for the moment, I look at him and smile, knowing he will be my anchor in these tough times.
1 Response
  1. heya, lama tak datang visit ur blog...

    got an anchor oso still sad meh?

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