As I sat there, medical report in hand, the doctor’s voice drowned in the thunder of my beating heart and the rushing sound in my ears. My life flashed before me in a monochromic sequence. The feedback from there differs nothing from the doctor’s. Gloom.
Shortly, I’ll take my final bow, yet, I’d talked myself out of an outstanding performance. There’s no one to blame for this but me…society made suggestions, family tried redemption, God tried reconciliation and once or twice, even I tried resolutions but here I am.
I lived afraid and it seems that’s how I’ll make an exit. See, I was always a fun, free spirited person, but even if you used a high resolution emotionoscope- if there’s any such thing- you’d never have guessed.
The things I do bear no testimony of who I really am.
I talk myself out of everything! From love to laughter to opportunities.
‘Why should I be the first to call?’
‘why should I apologise?’.
‘why should I go?’.
‘why should I even bother…?’. These are expectedly followed by ‘what ifs’- just to make a convinced of myself.
So rather than laugh at a joke, as i would wont, I lament its lameness. Rather than kick off my shoes and have the dew kiss my feet, I’d make a fuss and probably a detour.
I take the ‘sub’ in subordinate v.seriously. After all they are mere foot soldiers, why should I bend backwards to help them?
Love? Urgh! Men are overrated anyway.
I was never bitter, just self possessed.
I have many acquaintances, no friends, an account-full of (now) useless money, an empty life and truckloads of regret.
When asked to find my happy place, I drew a pretty blank. God to me is distant and unrelated. He tried to form bonds but I talked myself out of ‘such foolishness’.
Now, the doctors relay life’s call for lights out and I have no succor, no fond memories to hold on to, no quick comebacks.
Life is withdrawing her grant. Which seems to me like revenge because many times, she had invited me to dance; I always talked me out of it!