are you still fighting the monsters? the no that took over the yes that faltered before, do they still fight? the gravity of gray clouds that held you low, is it still winning over the sunshine? are you still walking are you still picking up calls are you doing okay?
- w.p Modern loneliness by Lauv
This song was playing through the headphones as I sat thinking about a lot of things. And this is how I ended up writing this. The past few months have been stressful and yes, not pretty looking after the "home-stay" lost its aesthetics. If I had to talk about myself, I went back into my little shell of "I am not gonna call, so don't call me too" which had all my essentials that gave me a reason to live, two hands to write/draw and a pair of working eyes to read books and catch up on TV-series while making absolute no use of my two legs [I am sorry leg number 1 and 2]. MY mind working to its fullest capacity and at quite a faster pace after 2 years, it was a bit hard to catch up with the pace of thoughts, but I found my remedy. After 2 month of this "extremely exciting activities" phase, I had exhausted myself completely, as usual, typical "me" behavior. So I decided to catch up with old friends, and that went pretty well, more like, emotional. A few of them who I had stopped talking with but managed to catch up with their transforming physical features in the past 2 years through social media and vice versa, things were pretty awkward with them. Then there was a person who I hated for all the things I had witnessed about her but never stopped reaching out to her because she was more than just a rumor that made up half of her school life, we talked about school, and I told her I was sorry for hating on her and everything came pouring out, I didn't hesitate one bit. It was scary at first but felt nice and then this sudden fear took over "what if I hurt her even more?" or "what will she respond to this?" or "would she stop talking altogether?". She said, "I understand. I would have hated myself too, and I did. But I am glad you never stopped talking to me despite the hate." And it hurt, these words hurt really bad. All these years, she had been alone, and flashbacks of us secretly discussing poetry and books, laughing about characters in the novels, everything all of a sudden came out in the form of tears. And I realised, "what purpose was your being there for everyone even, when you couldn't be there with someone who loved and cared for you truly?" We talked everything out, and that awkward air that remained uninvited in the party, left with no success. Old talks, similar music tastes, poetry, again brought us closer, maybe not the way we were before, but certainly a step closer. She told me how she was glad I called and asked her how she was, because she was breaking a bit, thinking about old times, old friends. And I am glad I called her, and read her out this poetry. And nothing would have ever brought us any closer if not for that one phone call, that one reaching hand. Be there for the people around you, the ones who love you truly, adore every piece of you. Be there for the people around you, the ones who you'd walk past, who sometimes need that push Reach out, ask them, "hey, how are you? Its been a while!"
Listen, if not advice. Just try to be there.