somebody said you'd disappear in the crowd. i didn't understand then, i don't understand now. throughout your existence, time has been at the forefront of my mind. like, how long does it take for a contract to end, the time it takes to hear from a prospective employer, the number of weeks before a deadline, the hours it takes to write an essay, the number of days it takes to edit said essay, the minutes it takes to construct a text message, how long it takes for someone to read and respond(or not) to a text, how long before you unrattle my brain.
you weren't like rain, you were more like a sea. i wasn't prepared for the flood you'd cause. i floundered, 2016. i tried to swim my way through you. the havoc you've left behind will take a tremendous amount of self discipline and self care to repair because, 2016, i think of self care as warfare, and you've done quite a number on me.
i hated every new day that reminded me of what a failure i became under your watch. every time my white curtains announced a new day i felt like crying. but i didn't because you, 2016, are heartless like that. instead, my eyes became teary with each rise of the dawn. -if you have time(which you don't) i could tell you about the number of times i saw the start of a new day and the end of it, because, unlike normal people, i couldn't summon sleep whenever darkness came upon the sky. i was insomniac throughout your existence, 2016. while i thank you for this because i was able to finish my work before the deadline, i can't help but think of all those sunrises i missed because i fell asleep at six o'clock in the morning- there are times during the day when i decided not to wear my sunglasses just to know how it feels to cry. but just in case you didn't know, tears from sun sensitive eyes are different from tears from hurt filled eyes. you try to hide sun sensitive tears from the public that looks at you with pity, while tears from hurt filled eyes don't care who is looking.
2016, i thought you'd be painless. you weren't that at all. you did what you had to do. i guess it would be rude of me not to thank you for teaching me how to be patient, how to let go of the control i thought i had. so, i am ready to let go of you, but only with love, which, in all honesty, i found it hard to muster. while others dare you to get harder, i can't. i wouldn't. you've proved to me how hard you can get already. you couldn't possibly get harder. i've been a television version of a person with a broken heart. now i want to know how it feels to live a life without you around.
only with love,
the hedonist
this post was inspired by the national's pink rabbits.
