It’s strange to think that despite being within a sea of people, we are still truly, inexplicably alone. Hundreds of faces painted with a mixture of emotion, and still, we are unable to find the one that we long to see. This is how I learnt that despite all of the empty promises and the ‘I’ll never let you go’s’, somehow, I am still stood on my own two feet with my hands in my pockets, expression blank, mind made up.
It’s windy today. Not the type of wind that blows you away though, but the type that makes you uncomfortable, the type that takes away your breath and makes it hard for you to find your footing. I don’t have any plans, not really, and boredom broods nothing but. I recall fondly of memories filled with love and family and friends that once were, but to look back in hindsight, the emotion isn’t the same. Smiles aren’t as sincere and heartfelt words are quick to scorch my skin. For, what was once true now runs cold. What once warmed my heart turns to ash and I can look back with only regret and longing. I don’t quite understand how the weather dictates my mood. I don’t understand how the wind makes me want to leave, to cut off all ties with the materialistic world. I don’t understand how the rain makes me desire companionship and the ability to cast myself in someone else’s life. What I can say without a doubt is that, each season leaves me desperate for the next. During one, I desire another, and when it passes I long for the days I spent being unappreciative of the beauty only it could supply. And that is all it is, my desires, as fickle as they come, they go.
It hit me, only then.
My feelings towards the seasons are the way we treat one another. Before we have something in our possession, we idolise it. All of it’s beauty and wonders captivate us, we are unable to focus on anything else at all, and in that moment of time, there is nothing else in the world that could make us as happy as this one thing. When we get our hands on that one thing, it loses it’s luster. It isn’t as special. What was once so mesmerising about it is no longer there and, despite it’s initial ability to make us happy, we crave something more. Something bigger, brighter and more beautiful than what we already have. We go in search of an ‘upgrade’, because what we have is no longer good enough for us. We discard what we have, like yesterdays rubbish, and go in search of what we desire. We’ve got it! We strive towards it and it’s now ours, but why do we still feel so empty? Why doesn’t it make us as happy as we thought it would?
I don’ recall ever wanting to be further from civilisation as I do today. We as human beings are beyond fickle. We are petty and full of anger, hatred and resentment towards one another for reasons that we, ourselves, do not quite understand entirely, yet we find reasoning within it all. Perhaps that is just to allow us to forgive ourselves, to convince others that we are deserving of forgiveness but then we are quick to deny others of it. We do not make sense. I, for one, am tired. I long for equality in a world full of separation and for love and understanding amongst those who do not value difference. In a sea of sinking bodies, I remain completely calm. I do not struggle, nor gasp for breath. I do not cling onto any hope of what could have or should have been. I just let it be. And that is what it felt like; acceptance.