08/21

 

The roar of the rain awoke me this morning, pounding on my windows. I let out a groan, trying to shut my eyelids tighter, as if to somehow block out the noise. I like rainy days; I live for them in fact, as we’re currently going through awfully hot days. But these are the nasty kind, the kind that doesn't give you a warning sign in the form of a dark sky or a timid storm or two; they’re the kind that clumsily blunders uninvited and drunk, ready to make a scene. If you’re lucky, it would also come with angry thunders that threaten to destroy anything that crosses their way.

As the heavy downpour showed no evidence of stopping, I just began to stare at the ceiling, my blinks slow and deliberate. I had nothing waiting for me today; perhaps only the tea bags in the cupboard.

 

My days have been of me, constantly waiting, waiting and waiting. I’m waiting for everything to finally begin, for me to be swept off my feet by a gust of wind, to be taken far away from the self that I am now. For all that is filthy to be left behind; the sorrow, the sighs, the sadness. And for me to be left pure and cleansed, untouched and unharmed, and for my head to be dispensed of all that I’ve gone through. I’ve spent too many nights sobbing into my pillow, my jaw clenched to stop myself from making any noise, so as not to wake my parents up. These are the nights when I wish to have someone holding me, feeding my loneliness and my need to feel like I mean something to a person. That I’m not nothing.

As the months have gone by, the feeling has grown stronger, and I’ve felt the most alone I’ve ever felt. It feels like I’m in a bubble, floating and watching my body go through the motions. I watch her laugh with her mom, cook meals with her, facetime with her boyfriend and send funny memes to her best friend. But I’m not in her; I’m detached from her. I’m doing all these things but I don’t feel any of it.

 

I’m sorry everyone.

 

The only time I feel like I’m me again, is when I’m alone in my room. I dont have the need to do anything to prove anything, or to try and be the best me i can be. I can just lay on my back, arms splayed and eyes shut, with cherry wine playing in the background. I can feel the flow of the music, as it takes over my entire being. I’m floating, but I’m not floating alone, leaving my body; I’m floating with her. I could feel myself drifting with the tune, as my eyes would water and my lips mouth the words of the song,

 

over and

over and

over again

 

until I could not bring myself to do so anymore, as I am engulfed with only tears and hozier’s words; it looks ugly, but it’s clean.

​

~Sarah Abdul Rahamn