In Theory

abc's up

Photo by Kai Pilger on Unsplash

How do I stop carrying everything that has ever happened to me? — Blythe Baird

I never spoke or smiled much as a child. When I turned four, I became aware of how much I didn't like socializing or having too many people whom I didn't know around me.

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I still don't smile much as an adult. The last man I dated often told me it's very easy to know my genuine interests. Apparently, I can't hide my beaming whenever I explain feelings like: a throwback song I heard on the train and where I was the first time I heard it, yet another mob movie I discovered, the hummus at my favourite Lebanese restaurant, things like that. Somehow, my face carries a shade of sixth sense and fills the gap, and the fundamental things still apply over time: without conditioning, children don't pretend.

This is how I learned to love. Fleeting; in a panic; a frenzy; watching as the wicked unfolds — Desireé Dallagiacomo

I used to love writing. more fondly, reading. I could get lost reading for weeks on end. Nowadays, I watch videos at 2x speed and can't finish one thing at a time. My mind is constantly multitasking. always sorting memories. My earliest understanding of love came from seeing my mother cry the day my father remarried. So far, I've learned that love should never cause so much pain. I was about five years old at the time, but now that I'm much older, I realize that was when I knew it would be challenging to completely melt away emotionally. So, in a panic, a frenzy, I love and let people—who try to break me down, in one unintentional way or another—go just as quickly.

who would do that to a friend, let alone the one you love?— Olivia Dean

I cannot leave it alone just yet; I need to write it all out. I don't know when you changed your mind about me. Looking closely, it was never love. It was a form of quiet betrayal. I'm undone. You undid all the work of our love. Still, the memories of you meet me in waves that drive me silly. It is a horrid thing. I sometimes avoid truths that annoy me, like the fact that heartbreak, in any form, can be the loneliest, most isolating feeling in the world. It's 3:45 a.m., I'm sick to my stomach and can't sleep. I wonder what you're doing now that you're not with me. So many things have happened that I can't explain, and I feel as though I should apologize, but I barely feel remorse for trying. I can’t forget the mess. I know it was a long time ago. It shouldn't matter anymore. And yet, I cannot let it go, I cannot let it go. Listen, this is important. In theory, my face doesn't know the difference; I can't fake without first breaking. Don't hold it against me; nothing prepared me for you being lost, my darling. You were the love of a lifetime, so why weren't you good to me? Think about it.