I was sipping Bailey’s watching a show with him when a thought struck me. I guess that’s what’s happening to me right now.

I am an empath. I feel everything around me & sometimes even at a distance. The word “feel” is an understatement. The very occurrence appears to me as though it’s happening in reality far away from me. This knowledge about certain event that happened almost a month & half back knocks my wits off still as though it’s happening at present.

That’s the best way to express… I feel I’m witnessing something in person at present. In reality, it happened not with me watching over it- atleast not in person & it’s not happening anymore. It’s over so to say. But my mind is not ready to register.

I was at peace at home thinking eventually, everything was falling in place. Afterall, we had spent last two days with each other. Nothing seemed out of place at the surface. The night the story of betrayal was being written, I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Thinking, that it didn’t matter, I hit the bed. And then I had fallen sick.

I was wide awake disturbed with no thoughts I could think of. I tried running all I knew in mind; nothing seemed to be the cause of that unease. Soon it grew into restlessness & before I could register, I was in high fever.

Life went on & that restlessness made me its new home. I lost my sleep since that night completely. My mind wandered to unknown horizons in attempt to tally with my new found state of being.

The morning my deepest fear got me; the very night before, I meditated asking Universe for a sign. I had skipped food. I was scorching in fever & everything outside me somehow seemed alright. I had infact put together what may have happened & was shunned down by him upon confronting. So proof is what was required & left to be obtained.

The next morning changed my life & perception of someone very dear to me forever. I acted as I was shown in hours of meditation. The realization was ugly. It did not set me free & now gnaws at my conscience at all times.

I was disturbed since past December. I felt him to be distant even when we lived together. We dined together, had been out a couple of times, watched shows together; & still, I would often go back to him asking him to be with me.

That’s when it all started. And I had damn well felt right… or wrong, is it!

A bunch of lies & made up stories felt just that- fabricated. Questions I would have in response to his being distant both emotionally & physically were answered with I attempting duel. And since I was starting the “fight” always; he was distancing him from me. That was his alibi.

The cycle went on getting further skewed each passing month. Under some or the other pretext, I would be left to myself every weekend to deal with that engulfing feeling of loneliness. I felt abandoned, wretched & invalid. Weekdays were different. I was treated fairly, relatively, with generous hugs & consoling statements that all was in my mind.

The distance that joined us together created enough space for others to hop in & out. While one too many had been quick to hop out of that “space”; it was during “hop in” period of someone I never met that I made a doomed discovery of an affair.

I have been a few times over to the place where one of the chapters of betrayal was written. Once to rent, once a day before the story was written & later to get my stuff from that apartment. Oh yes, I chose to do that to myself to test my resilience.

Even though the story is in past participle, I feel it’s being enacted in some parallel dimension still. Not even for a second I am not cognizant of that act of deceit & betrayal. Obviously, that sense of uneasiness is dead now; but, the feeling that lived in me for eight months breathes in me still.

The day the apartment was rented, the times we fought over me not agreeing to give my stuff away to set up his other apartment to his travel on weekends to that place were the times when that ugly monster had threatened me to swallow me whole. My instincts were right.

I have not met or spoken with them; & yet, feel very strongly of their existence or shall I say their presence in life.

Come to think of it, there were some signs… the ones I ignored thinking to be nothing really. What if I had rushed after following him to his goddamn apartment? What would I have encountered? My shattered pride, my foolhardiness or a broken me? Living with the very knowledge of occurrence of something that’s in past is this difficult- I wonder how I would have survived “catching” him in the act. How would have I reacted or put myself together – like ever!

I don’t know how to make peace with this newest realization. Surprisingly, the allegations of me fighting with him constantly, the very skill is sitting dumbfound. The expletives are tacit.

I have this strong yen to start over again. Fresh with new ink on new pages. I wish I had the courage to move on like I did before always. Maybe, I will. Oneday. Today isn’t the day.

About Olivia

Corporate worker, textile designer, writer.
This entry was posted in My Biopic Log, My mind and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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