I Fell Apart

Please, excuse this clichéd melancholy. I am extremely downhearted and unable of writing about anything else of more significance.

I recall a distant past where my life was continuously filled with a sweet scent of the early spring bloom. Now all that’s left is a void of asthmatic suffocation.

My life hasn’t always been so sour. I once had joy – back in the day when my smiles weren’t so artificial. Yet I don’t know why, but it feels like I haven’t tasted anything sweet in decades. Memories that are in fact not so far away from this present day all seems so distant - faded and shrouded in a lightless mist of desolate gloom. These memories of friends, love, and spirit are only mere remembrances of a person I once was.

Just a year ago I was on top of the world. Among my peers, I was of the highest caliber. I had the skill; the commitment; the persistence to make myself really mean something, and nothing could stop me from becoming someone – someone whose existence in this world won’t be left unnoticed.

Things fall apart. Nobody knows why, but they just do. You fight for good intentions; you build yourself a lavish life based on those intentions; and for several years – decades, if you’re lucky – you believe that you may actually have a shot in life. Then a minute detail – a tiny crack on the foundations of rapture – leads your life into becoming less than what it should be.

Not so long ago, I had two intimate friends with whom I confided in. I remember our many small moments – coffee in the local Starbucks, their forcing me out of bed to go to Bogor, and the laughter we shared that continues to echo through my mind. With them I felt as though I could really be myself and feel accepted, as though I was liberated from all the confusion of this harsh labyrinth.

After a series of unfortunate events, misery took hold. These two now treat me as though I am a stranger. They view me as though I am a nuisance who divests them of the joys of their youth.

I avoid seeing them because doing so reminds me of what I’ve lost. The hollowness within me is palpable, because losing a friend – someone who, over the years has become a part of you – is like losing an integral part of yourself.

I have no one to turn to. My best friend doesn’t care because she’s unaffected. The other person I can confide in is thousands of miles away. My fears of becoming a shadow have, in actuality, been realized. I am only someone they used to hang out with; a former acquaintance.

Things fall apart, yes. But that’s just how it is. When your life is shattered into pieces, you rebuild those pieces. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Those who find happiness are those who are persistent on their pursuit of happiness. Friends leave, tears are cried, happiness is lost, but even in the remnants of rubble there is still light.

I once had a horrible fear of leaving high school, in anticipation of how I’d have to leave these wonderful people. But things don’t look so bad now, since these wonderful people have become much less wonderful to me.

College – a new world; a chance for a new beginning. High school and this ensuing melancholy will all disappear into the dusty photo albums of my unvisited attic. At least there’s some hope that that will happen.

Should I remain in this state of depression, then I’ll soup myself up in Prozac and die of an overdose. Who cares, right?