So I sit here in my room (Funny how all my entries start that way, eh?), with only my laptop for company, and a constant chain of ponderings running through my idle mind. The surprise is that, despite the optimism that comes to me naturally, I can think of nothing, but everything I don’t have.
I’ve spent majority of the last year, getting used to my newfound freedom, and in spite of my fierce independence, I almost resent it. My first year at university is coming to an end, and I think back over the last 9 months, weighing my gains and my losses.
My losses, although minimal to the strange eye, have been magnanimous. I have no dearth of material pleasures, never have. Yet life has never seemed quite as empty as it has in this past year.
I lost friends – not literally – rather, the delusions I’d so carefully built up around the concept, and hence, gained reality, perhaps?
I gained a sense of self worth, as strong as it has ever been – yet lost my confidence in my own choices, due to a lack of nothing more than respectable validation.
I had time on my hands, as much as anyone would ever wish for – and I used most of it constructively, in a constant endeavour to improve upon who I am. Perfection, I want not, for such a thing does not exist. I only wish to be the best I can be.
In the process, I lost all sense of belonging, anywhere.
I gained the ability to survive on my own – and I lost the capability to depend, on anything, or anyone. Even the night, my sole stable companion, grows shorter day by day.
I gained the ability to think for myself – while simultaneously losing the chance to share those revelations.
I read, watched and heard things that brought me inexpressible joy – yet in the riddance of my delusions, lost the pleasure of being able to share those with someone who would appreciate them.
I gained the opportunity to live life to its fullest extent – and I lost it, for I have yet to learn how to do so alone.
Once stripped of my childish fantasies (as some would call them), I gained some perspective – and lost hope.
I sat here, imprisoned in these 4 walls, living vicariously through the grandeur of great lives – lives well spent, lives lived. And I tried, oh I tried, to find a way to walk in those huge footsteps.
I might have succeeded, I might not have. I know not, and perhaps it is for the better.
I achieved some things – they might not be great – but the momentary joy they brought me was invaluable.
I also went down paths I’m not proud of – paths that would break the hearts of those few who still care – and for that I apologise. I only hope to be given a second chance, and I promise I shall try and do better.
I watched some beautiful movies – and I revelled in the endings – happy and tragic, likewise – with a dream of attaining either.
I gained the ability to laugh, to cry, to sing, like no one is watching – for no one was – I gained the courage to be myself again.
Yet there followed the insecurity of what someone would say if they were watching.
I gained individuality – and pride at being my own person – at the cost of being incomprehensible to most around me.
I won some, and I lost some. And I learned, for myself, the essence behind these wise words – “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game.”
A wise man (The wisest I know) has repeatedly told me – It’s lonely at the top.
And I know, all too well, what he meant.
For the fleeting moments of joy I had, I am thankful – to myself – for I can safely say they were my own doing.
For my innumerable moments of weakness and despondency – I apologise – to the person I am, to the person I aspire to be, and to my family.
To describe this last year, I could use any number of adjectives, both negative and positive, and they would all be true.
I end this piece with the very little shred of hope I have left – hope that the next year shall see a trifle more joy, a trifle less despondency.
Hope that I will be able to seek solace in the company of a human being, rather than facebook.
Hope that I won’t lose the ability to hope.