Sup3rnality

I still reckon that this is just a dream. This house, this place….I can’t believe I’m here. My heart feels so hollow, like there’s nothing in it. I’ve forgotten the meaning of home. What is home? Is it where you live? Is it where you run to cry to? Is t where your heart is? It’s such a clichéd phrase: “Home I where the heart is”. But hell, I believe in it. I read the book by Billie Letts Where the Heart Is and hell, do I ever believe in that phrase. But where is my heart? Is it where the person I love most (my mom) is? Or is it where I call home? But then again, I’ve always referred to my mom as my ‘home’. Then, how come Shah Alam is calling me? Calling out my name? Urging me home? What is a home, again I ask….?

God has this plan for us (or so a friend said). And yes, I believe very much in that. But what is this plan of His? How can a plan break you beyond recognition? It tears me up, each pulling on me from different directions. It hurts, being split apart. It’s like not knowing where exactly you belong and that’s exactly how I feel right now. It’s bloody crappy, feeling like this. In constant angst, ready to shout my heart out if the occasion arises. I hate it…..Being like this makes you feel angry perpetually. You feel like you wanna punch the living daylights out of someone but at the same time you know you can’t. It’s like that. It’s a dilemma. Not knowing what to do, how to react. Sh*t! I’m bloody confused.

This confusion eats me up from inside. Killing me ever so slowly. Taking its time with me. Knowing that I am likely to break anytime soon. Am I broken? Does it show on my face? Most of the time I know it doesn’t, but when I start to stare into space, and my thoughts take over my mind, you could see my grief dancing in my eyes. It mocks me, knowing that I can’t do anything but cry….. But even that is something I cannot do. I’ve forgotten how… Sometimes I find myself sobbing without any tears. Am I that broken until even tears have lost their purpose? Bloody Hell, I’m bloody confused.

Will I ever wake up? Maybe, hopefully I’ll wake up and find that this is just some nightmare my mind conjured to test just how far I can take it. Maybe if I pinch myself right now I’ll wake up….Nope, I’m still here. In this house in Seremban. When I lie own, I play out my life on the ceilings, hanging on to the past, my only chance of survival. I depend on these memories, so that I’ll never forget the time when I used to smile more; a time when I did not have to count the days I could go back to UIA (as Hellish as it is) so that I could forget that life existed outside the Holy Grounds.

If I have to go on like this, I sure do wish I had something (or rather someone) that could be my constant strength when I seem to have lost mine. It’s not like I don’t appreciate you dudettes and how you’re always there for me; but this ‘someone’ used to be the one thing that kept me sane in rough times and I miss having that constant assurance that he will keep me grounded even when I start drifting away. I know it’s no use pining over an ex-boyfriend. Like what most of my friends said, “it’s his loss”, and I should be enjoying my life……But at times like these, I constantly think of him. He has kept my head over the water for so long that now without him, there’s always this feeling like I’d drown. Hmmph, I know it sounds funny to hear me talking like this. It would seem unusual for me to others to hear me being so dependent on this one guy, especially now when I’ve turned into such a feminist…. But hell, if I had really lost my interest in guys, I’d be chasing girls now….And believe me, I STILL very much fancy guys. JOHN RZEZNIK, I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!! Hehehehe….feminist or not, guys are still pretty much on top of my list of favourite things. I miss him…I really do. But dreams don’t always come true. And fairy tales are not likely to happen. But hey, a girl can keep on dreaming. Nevermind the fact that it consumes me very slowly from inside. Hell, at the rate I’m going now, I don’t think I care anymore.

You know….when I was at Shah Alam, and I went into my parent’s bedroom, and I let out a slight sob. And this small, breathy sob actually echoed. That shows just how empty the room is; just like my heart. I dunno how I’ve managed to live my life without having a part of my heart. Or rather, my whole heart. How I wish I could just close my eyes and forget that life existed. Forget that I have a life. I could just float on infinity and forget…. Or perhaps, I could run away. Even just for a few days. Forget my name, leave my world behind. Just go somewhere where no one knows me. Where they don’t give a damn. And then maybe, I can put my faith in solace again. Because damn, I dunno the meaning of that word anymore…

Yeah, you could say I’m one bloody melancholic person. And yeah, I’d agree along with you. How can I not be? People look into my eyes and don’t bother saying what they wanted to say in fear I might just infect them with the darkness that’s in me. So, back to my question. What is home? What does it mean? Where is it? Why is it such a misleading word? Who made up that bloody word? And how can such a simple word hurt and confuse me so…? That I’ll probably never know… and until I do, all I can do is ponder how I’m going to survive one more day…