Surviving goodbye

Days are getting fewer and yet I am growing increasingly restless. I have gotten past the worst and am now breathing again. Despite that, I cannot be calmed.

What remains of my time here is going to be tough for I find myself unwilling to do anything anymore. I may be physically present but my mind wanders. I am seated somewhere well-lighted and spacious with the view of the sky almost black with pollution. I am hearing a lot of noise - talks about the recent political boo-boo, furious tip-tapping of the keyboard as the deadline nears, door opening followed by hurried footsteps.

I am no longer suffocated in the corner nodding wordlessly. Temporary compliance and patient tolerance just to get by until this is finally over is how I survive until I can feel, smile, be me once more.

There is no going back now. I have never felt so free.

There are times when I go almost crazy. It happens once a month, consistently, without fail. This is when my face could deep-fry chicken. This is when I feel like a penguin walking on ice.

Weeks ago, I tried to rationalize my emotions. Sadly, I cannot come up with any mindblowing existentialist justification. So I turn to biology.

Just this week over dinner, I tried to rationalize again. Aided by a friend this time. We talked about religion, palm-reading, and skydiving. But mostly we talked about men. And why men do what they do.

We eventually got tired of talking about men so we decided to take a walk and find a toilet. We surmised that men are the way they are because perfection is boring. And that achieving the ideal would kill the motivation to live.

We never talked about men after that. Until the next bout of crazy, of course.