Savitri, I do not recognize myself anymore. I am no longer me. And I am going to tell you why.
At this very moment, I’m imagining myself slitting my left wrist and the blood rushes out. And this isn’t the first time, Savitri. Minutes before I took an exam in one of my classes, I’ve imagined myself doing it. I saw myself staring blankly at my own blood. I cringed at the thought knowing that it would definitely hurt, but more so, it is wrong.
Savitri, it isn’t right, is it?
Tell me it’s a sin to commit such an act. I do not know why I started thinking about it when I myself knew it’s terrible. I’ve been very much lonely again. Yes, I am alone. And I so much enjoy being alone. However, it is when I’m alone that I start thinking of horrible things. I try to think about the happy moments in the past but it just makes me feel worse realizing that I’ve only got a few of these thoughts out of my whole miserable existence.
Yes, Savitri, I am miserable.
I try to beat the feeling but in vain. The happiness I feel every time I go out with a good company of people I chose myself, is nothing but superficial. Temporary. It’s as if I’m just buying their company for an hour or two and when it’s over and I go home, I’m back with the same feeling of melancholy.
How many times have I cried to sleep, Savitri, I’ve lost count.
Oftentimes, I notice myself staring listlessly when in public or staring blankly when I’m home.
I live alone, Savitri. And I love the house enough to live alone there. Because it’s quiet inside. Except that in my neighborhood the nights are unbearable.
But Savitri, I do not believe that my problem lies on my solitary life.
I am happy being alone; it’s just that I am a lonely person. I do not feel lonely being alone.
Tell me then, Savitri, what could have been the cause of my loneliness.
At one point in my life I have wondered of seeking a professional help but now I doubted doing it. I have read a book and realized that no help can be of use to me because it is only I who can help myself.
Isn’t it right, Savitri?
They may be professional, but if I do not cooperate, they can not help me. In the book, the character was cynical to his psychologist. So he never told the truth – on how he feels, what he thinks, etc. To me, though, it was a waste of money that he’d continue going to her. So there.
Do you understand me, Savitri?
I won’t be seeking any professional help. I just wanted somebody to listen to me. You see, Savitri, I am a good person. Or that’s what I used to be. But the thing is, I’m on the threshold right now. So my mind is kind of clouded with mixed feelings that I ended up like this.
Really, Savitri, I’d wanted to be good.
Do you believe me, Savitri?
I wanted to reach out to people, to talk to them comfortably, to laugh with them until I choke, to eat with them and actually savor the food, and share with them every single moment of my life. But I wouldn’t do it.
I’m scared, Savitri. And I couldn’t do it. It’ll never happen. They won’t understand me. It’s not worth a try. I don’t want to bet with my poor heart. I would just get hurt. And it would hurt the worst. It would drive me mad. I could hurt myself in the process. I’d die. They wouldn’t give a damn. They wouldn’t know they murdered a wretched soul. And I would suffer eternally.
Savitri, listen to me.
Savitri is the name of the protagonist in the story, "A Most Faithful Wife")
At this very moment, I’m imagining myself slitting my left wrist and the blood rushes out. And this isn’t the first time, Savitri. Minutes before I took an exam in one of my classes, I’ve imagined myself doing it. I saw myself staring blankly at my own blood. I cringed at the thought knowing that it would definitely hurt, but more so, it is wrong.
Savitri, it isn’t right, is it?
Tell me it’s a sin to commit such an act. I do not know why I started thinking about it when I myself knew it’s terrible. I’ve been very much lonely again. Yes, I am alone. And I so much enjoy being alone. However, it is when I’m alone that I start thinking of horrible things. I try to think about the happy moments in the past but it just makes me feel worse realizing that I’ve only got a few of these thoughts out of my whole miserable existence.
Yes, Savitri, I am miserable.
I try to beat the feeling but in vain. The happiness I feel every time I go out with a good company of people I chose myself, is nothing but superficial. Temporary. It’s as if I’m just buying their company for an hour or two and when it’s over and I go home, I’m back with the same feeling of melancholy.
How many times have I cried to sleep, Savitri, I’ve lost count.
Oftentimes, I notice myself staring listlessly when in public or staring blankly when I’m home.
I live alone, Savitri. And I love the house enough to live alone there. Because it’s quiet inside. Except that in my neighborhood the nights are unbearable.
But Savitri, I do not believe that my problem lies on my solitary life.
I am happy being alone; it’s just that I am a lonely person. I do not feel lonely being alone.
Tell me then, Savitri, what could have been the cause of my loneliness.
At one point in my life I have wondered of seeking a professional help but now I doubted doing it. I have read a book and realized that no help can be of use to me because it is only I who can help myself.
Isn’t it right, Savitri?
They may be professional, but if I do not cooperate, they can not help me. In the book, the character was cynical to his psychologist. So he never told the truth – on how he feels, what he thinks, etc. To me, though, it was a waste of money that he’d continue going to her. So there.
Do you understand me, Savitri?
I won’t be seeking any professional help. I just wanted somebody to listen to me. You see, Savitri, I am a good person. Or that’s what I used to be. But the thing is, I’m on the threshold right now. So my mind is kind of clouded with mixed feelings that I ended up like this.
Really, Savitri, I’d wanted to be good.
Do you believe me, Savitri?
I wanted to reach out to people, to talk to them comfortably, to laugh with them until I choke, to eat with them and actually savor the food, and share with them every single moment of my life. But I wouldn’t do it.
I’m scared, Savitri. And I couldn’t do it. It’ll never happen. They won’t understand me. It’s not worth a try. I don’t want to bet with my poor heart. I would just get hurt. And it would hurt the worst. It would drive me mad. I could hurt myself in the process. I’d die. They wouldn’t give a damn. They wouldn’t know they murdered a wretched soul. And I would suffer eternally.
Savitri, listen to me.
Savitri is the name of the protagonist in the story, "A Most Faithful Wife")
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