The worst missing

The worst missing is missing your own self.
Sometimes all you need is a shoulder, a shoulder to cry on. Arms that will wrap you in them and not try to trace the reasons behind your tears. Sometimes all you need is a friend who will not judge you and just let you be shattered, miserable, insane and broken. Someone who will tell you it's okay, it's okay to cry out as loud as you want, it's okay to feel betrayed, hurt, broken and weak, it's okay to feel miserable, to feel human. That friend in my life doesn't exist. I neither have such shoulders nor such arms anywhere near. It's always been me licking my own wounds, and it's always been me telling myself it's okay to lick your own wounds too. It's okay to be alone, isolated and even secluded. The worst missing is missing those own hands to wipe down the tears rolling down.
Everyone else will tell you that you are a strong independent person. And strong as you are strong like steel you must not melt, you must not allow yourself to become weak, to feel hurt, to feel lonely, to feel human... The world outside will praise you for your strength and crucify you from deviating from the standards they have set for you at the same time. Yes, you'll be exploited for being strong, as you are not allowed to have a weird moment. The world will suffocate you for not being the perfect resource machine that the religious gods have designed you to be and soon you earn your place amongst the scraps.

The worst missing is missing your own flesh and blood. The worst missing is missing your inner smile that had always danced to the tunes of your breath. The worst missing is missing the person you first fell in love with ever- the person who always smiled back at you from the mirror.

Rainy days and the reminiscence of old memoirs

Remember those days when you were a child?
Ofcourse you do! Remember how you loved cold wet rain, and free rainclouds? You couldn't forget them. Can you?
Those oozing dark clouds and drops of water flowing down yes what bliss it used to be.. you'll ignore the world and burry your head in your knees and get drenched like a hopeless fool fully aware that you are going to get severely beaten up, beaten up for having a moment of happiness all to yourself. The smell of freshly rain-kissed soil, of water drops, of green leaves soaked with love..... Yes it was very close to happiness then.

But then you are strong, you always have been, you had to be... Always. You became so outrageously strong that you had to outgrow yourself as quickly as you could blink and walla! What a great impermeable wall you have made out of yourself...
Like all the rational robots out there you find rainclouds depressing now. Oh yes! It is after all a severe depression that leads to thunderstorms and you like all those mature grown up robots out there are too old for masochism now.

So yes rainy days are different now. You must rush home, change your wet clothes, even your wet skin. Reach out for the most absorbant piece of shit you can get your hands on and dry yourself to the core as fast as you can, because you can't let those moisture drops contaminate the reminiscence of your fading half insane half evolved brain now. You hate rain as much as you hate your weaker self.

You have convinced yourself that having some moisture near you will kill you, and so will relationships. Good that you grew up. Good that you chose survival over life. Congratulations your smile will never reach out to your eyes anymore. You've successfully kissed all the clouds goodbye.