Reflection: 17 Oscillations
One of my fears when it comes to attachments is letting go, knowing that if I stop holding space, that door will close—but for good this time. And my failure to accept that our paths are diverging, yet still clinging to what once was. The fact that they once appeared congruent at times, how they kept this sense of loneliness at bay, even if it was just another bandaid. Maybe it’s just my past way of using social experiences as another form of an escape. Maybe that’s why my glory days, back when my days were jam-packed, is what I miss—but then again, another bandaid. The past year to two years, the cycle of escapism finally came to an end, and I was forced to face the music. And it all hit me at once—I couldn’t drown out the silence with the music; it was too loud.
Maybe in these attachments and my inability to let go, I can’t accept that time, circumstances, and in turn your experiences with said people change. From talking and seeing each other every day, to it dwindling down to every other day as we age, lives getting more demanding, social dynamics slowly starting to change.
Most of my life I’ve always felt isolated, alienated, and had to express myself through different masks every day—not out of fear, but just knowing that they wouldn’t understand all angles and sides of me. So this, from an early age, was a natural response—that I’d filter myself for different parts of the world. But I’m sat with the result of that decision: no one really knows me, just the version they got to experience. The version I felt I was able to reveal. I’ve always felt misunderstood and sidelined, as I didn’t fit the mould.
Maybe this fear of letting go isn’t necessarily about losing others, but about losing the parts/versions of myself I only allowed to exist in their presence. Parts of myself I never truly got to meet, just a few occasional glimpses. What I’ve always desired is to have someone who could see beyond the appearances and truly understand my soul, on every dimension or level, where we’d talk for hours—from conversations to brainrot, to debates, to sharing with each other what we learned that day. Breaking down our personal philosophies and certain things we’re attempting to integrate. Sharing experiences of our healing journeys and the inner demons we’ve overcome. How we’re rediscovering ourselves and how great said person became.
Yes, I’m working on my relationship with myself, but I don’t wanna have to always solo dolo my entire existence in this world. It’s like everyone has always had their own people, and I’m just here existing but not living. The days more or less the same, but I no longer really spiral; I just trust the flow these days. But in that, there’s not the ebb and flow of the highs and lows—it’s all mellow. It’s like only on the two extremes is where I truly feel. It’s either I feel it all or nothing at all. My writing is the same—the inner tension, this constant oscillating. Like I’m always restlessly pacing, bracing for what’s next. Another hurdle, another lesson, another loss, another experience that ends too soon. Social interactions that ultimately bore no fruits.
I guess life is one huge airport, where we’re all passing by each other en route to our chosen destinations, yet I don’t remember the last time I truly sat and spoke with someone on a soul level. And I yearn for that.
I always feel like I’m in this eternal state of meandering, be it my thoughts or emotions. It’s always been a constant for me, like a leaf subject to the wind—but I’m both parties involved.
There’s this ever-present distance when I do reach out, despite how many layers of my soul I peel back. It makes me wonder what’s the point of it all. I’ve unlimited minutes with no one to call. If you saw my call log of the past few months, it’s mainly doctors’ appointments, people calling for favors, or the occasional scam calls or texts of people in need of a favor. They always need a favor, and I always say yes—it’s intrinsic to my human nature.
But honestly, never mind. I guess this chapter is marked “the necessary me time,” and I guess I’ll just accept it as that.