Agony in Waiting
What are you staring at? Move your eyes away from me for there’s nothing left here, nothing.
I lost the strength to feel, the will to cry. I can’t explain to you how tiring is it to pretend that I don’t care anymore or that the hurt already subsided. I had always hated wearing masks, for it gives people a fancy view of your face while deep inside your breathing becomes shallow and your heart bleeds with regrets.
Yet here I am now, wearing the same mask I’ve always reviled.
Why?
Maybe because I don’t want the world to know what I’m going through, that I can’t move this mountain on my own, that I’m weak. But it hurts much more to smile than to say the mere truth that I still need him. This living has sucked the life out of me, and like an empty shell, all that echoes back to you these days are automated responses. Press 1 for hello, press 2 for how are you doing? What happened to me? I have no idea. Perhaps I’ve been stumped from a series of my questions and now I lack direction and motivation because I don't know where I’m going nor how to get there. When the reality of purpose dissipates into a slippery answer, one that has no grasp and no definition will surely fall. I’ve been shackled once more in the slave chains of agony. I want, need something, someone to distract me from me. If you look outwards, there’s a propensity to be another futile sheep and if you look inwards internally, there is tendency to ignore the world outside and create your own, in simplified terms... madness.
Oh how I envy the tinman for he wasn’t given a heart, nor does he feel anything like sorrow and depression. But then again, he also cannot feel…joy.
I know I don’t want to be like him. I know I can move on and I will rebuild the shattered walls of my sanity. I’ll do everything to bring back my lost soul. I will remove this mask and be me again… but when…
When?