My lost self
My lost self
“You have penetrated my blood, when I sigh, it feels like there is blood dripping inside my heart and cuts in my body. Still, I keep thinking about you, I want to see how far you can stay in my head after seeing me wither away each day, I want you back, whether it costs me my life.
Your Miss Style.”
Writing this, Hareem has closed her diary and started seeing out of the window. It struck 4 am and she still couldn’t figure out what had awakened her; her dad, her emptiness, or her demons.
It has been a year since her father died. She started her job again. Life came to its routine. Everything seems usual but what was abnormal that makes her fake? Her emptiness!
There is no one out who she can talk to. No companion, no mate, no friend. She smiles at work but the thought looms and still lingers.
”I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night… Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is: Who in the world am I? Is there someone to save me? That’s the great perplexion!” She wrote.
Was she waiting for someone? Was she looking for her partner? The man who has been in her dreams for years? She never thought of talking to him before wedlock but why does she need her soulmate now?
Why does she want her fictional character to be real so desperately? She is tired of fighting the world alone. She is tired of fighting her loneliness, her depression, and her emptiness.
She wants someone to enter her life like a hero with roses in hand, wipes off her tears, takes her emptiness away, and makes her feel complete. She wants him to pamper her, to give her the complete meaning of love.
The one who understands what she has gone through and what marks it left. Who can figure out the fakeness and brings the original happiness to her which would make her bloom.
The one who surrenders his whole heart to her and she alters the whole world for him.
But the question is: Can this fake world bring her real love? Can her scars fade or will she always pretend?
By: Erum shaikh