I fade into nothing to be everything!

S: I want to go someplace I do not know anyone, or no one knows me, she said.

A: You are running away from yourself. 

S: (a long pause and a sigh) Maybe. 

It was the second time they were meeting. She was sitting on the chair, and he was leaning on the bathroom sink. 

A: You know, sometimes we find this urge to run away from what we carry. It's not that you want to live in a place where you are alien to everything. It won’t make any difference even if nobody knows you unless you stop running away from yourself. 

He walked to her left and sat on a chair near her. She looked at him in awe and longing. 

S: It’s not the people. It’s the pain and the struggle. 

** What do I tell you? What things do I have to hide from and be in front of, and for what? For nothing, and for everything? She thought to herself in silence.

S: It’s the hurt that follows me, and a part of me dies. It just does not leave me, like a dying fragrance from a rose plucked a while ago. 

**Do I have to die in grace and misery like a flower? No, that does not make any sense(She again thought to herself). 

S: I hope you are getting what I am saying, it’s not this one day. It’s years, made of moments that felt like an eternity, and the nights that would not just fall. It’s the eyes and the words that pierce through my skin. Sometimes, I think, what did I do to deserve this? I do think, where did I go wrong, and even if I did not, why me?

**I want to scream and shout my lungs out in the skies, and hidden under sheets. Heck, whom do I tell that my heart yearns for love? I only want to be seen as I am, and not be painted in the color of the world. I want the world to be compassionate enough to be just kind - because, it kills people while they are alive. She failed a million times to explain this, and now she does not even care anymore. 

S: I have been now trying for years to vanish in thin air, for reasons only I know, the reasons I cannot explain - not to be seen or heard, by anyone I know, even the people I love. It’s not that I do not love them, it’s not that they do not love me, it's just that I do not want all that, I just do not . . . . 

Saying all that was like hell breaking on her, but she is now used to it. Saying things without an expectation to be understood. It hurts, yet it does not. Does it even matter, when you have no other option, you learn to live through it, and what's sad is that it's not even seen as an injustice to a soul. And again she cuddled herself in the world she had created for herself, even more adamant, disappearing into nothing.

A: You know you are an amazing woman, the one I have not seen or even met. You are strong, even with all you are, and you always find your way through all, with grace. I admire you for all you are. I am not even close to who you are and how you handle things. 

**I know I am strong, and a part of me dies every day to be that. How convenient it is for you all to say you are strong. Do not tell me that. What do you know, I cry myself to sleep in endless nights, and it kills a part of me. I hold my hand on a harsh sunny day, and it kills a want in me. I pick myself up in moments that are cold, and thoughts that are numb. I console myself in the misery of the crowd and it’s me who gives myself a hug when fear creeps under my skin. Saying no to breaking down, and then picking the scattered parts of my existence, I try to just be - and you know what, I do this every day; her head started to feel heavy thinking to herself. 

He was looking at her with calm on his face, and even with her face down and eyes stuck on her hands, which used to give her the sense and real picture of emptiness, she couldn’t look at him. She hated to cry in front of anyone and she knew if she’d raise her head and look at him, she wouldn’t be able to stop her tears from falling.  

**And I know it’s all mine to carry, and I do it with grace. The burden is mine. I should not and I do not expect people to understand all this, ask me how I am, or if I need something. How can they make anything easy for me, or if I would not want to be strong, or that I have already done enough? I just want someone to save me, and I know that someone should be me. Why don’t you all just leave me alone? She could not stop her mind from wandering into nothingness again. 

S: You know I am just too tired of fighting for the things that weren’t mine to carry, yet I am. I am tired of being strong. It disgusts me when people tell me you are strong. I do not want to hear this, I do not want to be strong, and I am not, I have to be, Who do I tell this, and why? And, ironically everyone knows this. I need help, and telling me I am strong enough to overcome the whole freaking world does not make me feel any better, it makes me sick.

Her heart sank to her stomach and came up to sink again a million more times. Is saying all this too harsh, but I do not even care anymore. For a moment she again thought that no one would ever understand, and she cuddled a little more, inside the world she had created for herself, in an attempt to just disappear. Existence started to suffocate her a little more. 

The silence there was, not killing her. The more she detached herself from the world, the easier it became for her to be ready for anything to come. 

**What do I have to lose? I am not afraid of anything now. She realized, how amazing it is, once you do not have to lose anything, you rise above your fears. I will reach there one day. 

**It’s not that you really want to disappear. You cannot just disappear, I know that, I am not delusional. It’s that you kill everything inside you, love, fear, longing, desire, everything. Nothing can touch you, hurt you, or harm you; she could not stop thinking about how can she save herself from hurt. 

S: I am just too tired of even the air around me. I do not want any connections. I hate attachments, and I do not want people to expect of me, anything. Why don’t they just leave me alone?

Meanwhile, she was tucking every moment with him into forever, in her fragile broken heart, like all other moments they spent together.

*** 

Sitting in a café, in a whole different country, on a misty evening, alone, she recalled her conversation with A, and it did not make her feel anything. She hasn’t spoken to anyone in months, because no one knows her and she knows no one here. She finally got what she wanted. She is too far away from the people she once knew, from places she used to sit in for hours and feel at home in herself, detached from her surroundings, and from everything she once called hers. It hurts, and it does not, now she is not even familiar with the air around her, she could share her tears with, in silence, on a long walk back home. It just does not feel like anything anymore.

There is nothing left! Of the words! Thoughts, memories, moments, fears, sorrows, and pain. Everything has turned into dots in her eyes. Fading bits and falling pieces of her very existence was all she was left with.

From fiercely being herself to fighting the world, making her way through the norms, struggling not to be torn apart by the world that only was in need of anything that could satisfy their petty needs, finding her ground, being a better person for herself and the world, she fought it all and loving him ruined the very her. 

She never thought, she would be sitting here, starting from ground zero, and every day, thinking of ways to depart her ways with the world. It wasn’t long enough before a thought struck her into tears that let alone refused to fall, but surface.

S: I am there, I am there. 

Do I fear anything today? No. 

Do I want the love I fought for in all its glory and misery? No.

Do I miss anyone? No.

Do I feel the need to be heard? No

Would I care if no one understands me? No.

Do I . . . . ? no.

- and I do not even feel anything about any of it, anymore! (sigh). What have I done to myself? But the pain is gone, right? Pain does not hurt me anymore. It does a little, but I do not crumble on the floor, curling into my stomach, crying for it to go. What is left there, anymore? Nothing. Yes, being a fragile human existence, I would always be needing a shoulder or an ear -  but it does not limit me, cage me, or suffocate me to be heard or seen or understood or loved. 

She tried to give sense to all of it, in vain, she tried to shape it all into something that would tell her that she has made it through. She did not want to spend one more evening trying to figure anything out. 

S: Sometimes, it's just surrendering, and breaking into pieces to fill the spaces inside you that are too loud to hear screams, and sometimes to silent to breathe. And I liberate myself today, I fade into nothing to be everything.

***

This story is dedicated to the people who fail to express themselves, and the world who fails to be just human enough to understand the people going through a tough time. The realization does not come one day, just like that. Sometimes, it’s being too tired of waiting for everything - and let me tell you that it is fine. 

I want to tell you that if you are too tired of waiting to be seen for who you really are, and what you actually feel - it’s fine! Be out there, loud and proud. It’s who’s gonna be there with you when no one is, and it’s you who you will be needing after all.