Here I am, laying on my back on the couch. Staring at the ceiling. They are bright, the bulbs on the small chandelier are actually bright. All the while feeling a hole gaping in my mind. Or is it in my heart? I don’t really think that matters. The point is there’s a gaping hole somewhere in me.
Just some 30 minutes ago, I was laughing, making faces, and having nice conversations with some friends. Now that I’m back in my studio apartment, I can’t even summon the slightest of smile. Am I sad? I don’t think so. I mean, I’d know it if I feel sad, right? What I feel now is most possibly nothing. The constant dripping sound from the leak of my air conditioner doesn’t really help to discern what is it really. I have filed complaint to my property agent and the contractor will send someone on Monday (which is technically today, in my side of the world). But can I actually complain? I have a place to stay and the apartment unit is actually nice. A studio unit indeed, but I can host 3 people easily in this unit. Some people doesn’t even have a roof above their head when they go to sleep.
What am I rambling about anyway. I know the answer already and I know I’m just trying to escape from knowing it. Trying to prolong the imaginary stalemate, one fabricated on mushy ground base of reason. What I feel is loneliness. That gaping hole is, and always is, loneliness. What I realized from time to time now is that loneliness hits you the hardest right after you spent some time with someone. Right after you pulled out of the human connection, BAM! Hello there, person, time to feel distant!!
As I said, it’s Monday. I can always blame it on Monday. A sleep will do. It will, as always.