You know how people sometimes describe heartache? That deep, dull, throbbing, empty space where your heart should have been?
Like something -- or someone -- had plunged a sharp-clawed hand deep into your chest and plucked that cherry-like organ from its branch.
You know what's worse than that?
Knowing it'll hit. Knowing it'll hurt. Knowing everything about it, but never knowing when it'll start.
There's nothing greater, or more significant than the occurrence of a heartache. It's soundless, signless, merciless, yet it reduces one's world to a chaos of deafening pain; made worse by no outward appearances.
No signs that you're suffering inside. No physical pain to distract you.
Just you, the silence that surrounds you, and the pain that screams inside.
-Fear-
You know how people sometimes describe fear? That helpless, vulnerable, debilitating, terrified feeling when you are faced with a situation you have no control over?
Like something -- or someone -- had plunged a sharp-clawed hand deep into your chest and squeezed out whatever remnants of rationality left.
You know what's worse than that?
Knowing what you fear. Knowing why you fear. Knowing everything about it, and knowing you can't really do anything about it.
There's nothing greater, or more significant than when you're forced against something you fear. It's endless, breathless, merciless, and it reduces one's world to a chaos of thumping pain; made worse by no control over it.
No way to stop it. No way to prevent it.
Just you, the dread that surrounds you, and the pain that screams inside.
-Leave-
To depart, exit, disappear.
To leave.
....................
It's come to a point in my life when all three things are to be combined together by a single, rather uneventful journey. It's strange -- ironic even-- how most of the time the most common things can evoke the most uncommon emotions.
Stranger when, on repeated exposure to these common things, the emotions evoked can change.
I know, this is not the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last. But it is one of the rare times that I feel such conflict in myself.
Leaving home. I've done this countless times over the past few years, leaving for gradually longer periods for gradually further destinations. And every time it evokes extreme reluctance, with only extreme anticipation for the next time I shall return.
And every time before this, there was only heartache. Never fear. Not in this way, anyway.
I don't know why, but this impending journey brings both reluctance to leave, but not much anticipation to return. Of course there is some small measure of eagerness to return, but not much. This time though, there's the very strange feeling of looking forward to leave, however small and insignificant it is compared to my reluctance to leave.
But this eagerness is bound to grow (as it is the case with me and my experience with myself this past 21 years or so) once I'm removed from my reluctance. And I will be removed, for nothing can change this impending journey.
And that's what different this time.
I'm changing. I fear this change, but I cannot do anything about it. I fear this subtle, unnoticed change will somehow affect the ties and bonds which keeps my world the way I know it, and turns everything topsy-turvy.
I have come to realise that fear and heartache aren't necessarily different things. At the very least, they are interconnected in such intricate patterns that trying to separate these two is near impossible.
Leaving showed me that.
This time, leaving brings along the usual heartache. That I shall leave and not be able to see, or hug, or breathe this familiarity on a daily basis. That part of me shall be left behind in a gradually changing world that I'll not be able to see simply because I'm not there physically. That I shall be living away from my safe haven and not have immediate access to my safety nets.
But this time, leaving brings along fear. Fear that I have changed, and will have even bigger changes as more time and miles are put between me and my home. That my disinclination for any exertion (also called more popularly as laziness) will allow large chunks of time to pass by with no records, leaving most of my youth unmarked and eventually lost.Fear that I shall allow more distance to grow between me and my home, my family, my friends because I'm not in close contact with them and the 'out of sight, out of mind' part of me will reign freely.
Fear, that I shall come back to a completely different world, and things and people have changed so much that I shall not regain that familiarity and be reduced to a bobbing buoy in a vast expense of crashing waves.
Time, really, screws everybody. And this disinclination of mine to let things go isn't really healthy. But I just want everything to stay the same, for nobody to leave, for nobody to age, for my sister to stay that little toddler I used to know (which she still is, just not physically anymore), for the interaction between my friends to still be that comfortable and effortless. These changes aren't significant -- until you leave.
I don't want to leave. But I know, that once I'm there, I won't be counting the days till I return too. My inertia is strong like that. And I feel awful for that.
And that, is why I hate leaving.
Well, that, and the fact that the luggage allowance is never enough.
Not really relevant, these lyrics, but it is One Day More for me right now. :(
