Just another day....

I walk along the streets, only the music in my ears and the thoughts in my head. No sense of recognition, no sense of identity. No one knows me. No one recognises me. No one jumps out from the crowd to utter a greeting. I like the loneliness somehow. And the emptiness. I can talk to myself. I can walk around with tears in my eyes and no one on the road would even notice. Or ask what the matter is. I can be myself. I can be a hollow shell, a wreck. When I'm alone, I don't have to plaster on a fake smile on my face, make people smile, seem happy and cheerful and bright all the time. When I actually want to just be quiet and silent and not bother about what is happening elsewhere. When I'm alone, I can walk around with the wind in my face, tears welling up in my eyes. That sense of imminent departure, of questions and answers, of just being myself.

Love comes back to haunt me. That feeling somewhere in the past. Something that seems to conspicuous by its absence now. Something that caused me to lose my vulnerability and innocence. And yet left me incredibly weak and vulnerable. Without the smile in place. Without the optimism. Without the happiness. Without strength and support. With more questions than I could possibly hope to answer. With unending mysteries. With songs stuck in my head, playing again and again. With the rush that will never be there again. I am alone. And I like it. At least that's what I have brought myself to believe.