anuv jain -- why

# I'm surprised that there's at least one person in this world who seems to care about what I have to say. I feel like I've created a parasocial relationship since I know that they keep track of what I post, but I don't actually know who this person is. In any case, thank you for reading? I hope my life is entertaining enough for you.

I made a mistake by napping at an odd hour (20:30). It's currently 01:27, and I can't sleep. I have a meeting at 10:00, and then work from 13:00. Tomorrow is also a hair wash day, and that easily takes an hour of my time.

But I can worry about all of that when the sun comes up. It's cool and quiet enough for me to enjoy my own company and music, without anyone blowing my phone up. However, the problem with this is that I'm left alone with my thoughts, which means a lot of word vomit because I will literally go insane otherwise.

I also have a tendency to hurt myself - I think I enjoy emotional pain - and I've very carefully picked an artist who just makes sad, heartbroken music in Hindi. There's a lot of yearning and longing in his lyrics. It works out, because that's how I feel right now.

It's an annoying, inconvenient cycle that I'm trapped in. I'm pretty fine when I'm busy; I've done an okay job at keeping myself busy over the last couple of weeks. I've set a ton of goals for myself, and my schedule currently looks worse than it did when uni was in session. I'm slightly worried about burning myself out, since I'm using work as an escape, but that's not a priority at the moment.

Despite all of this, I still manage to find time to miss you of all people. I would rather kill myself than use even an atom of my energy to formulate another thought that has anything to do with you, but I am not in control. My brain is not on my side - it will find the most seemingly random thing and relate it back to you. I will see something funny, or have something happen to me, and I'll subconsciously put it away in a folder of my brain to share with you later. There is no "later". I do not know why I enjoy breaking my own heart.

It also does not help that I'm sleeping on the other side of the bed now. My brain has managed to associate that with you based on one singular interaction. Now I end up dreaming of you every night.

Do you have any idea how maddening it is to not be able to escape you? It does not matter whether I'm awake or asleep - you manage to wiggle your way into my thoughts and dreams regardless.

I wasn't expecting this at all, and I don't believe you were, either. So explain to me how I got tangled in this mess all by myself, because I haven't the slightest clue.

-

Thoughts and feelings, man, they manage to creep up. I thought I was in control.

Every time this happens, I can almost hear you ask me what I miss. That's a very valid question, one that I've answered a million times in my head, but never had the courage to say out loud. It's rather embarrassing, you know. I am a 21 year old independent woman. People, including adults double my age, depend on me. I should not be acting like this.

But that's the thing. You see, people depend on me. I am responsible for making others feel safe, but that somehow translated to me constantly guarding myself, and barely trusting others. Surface level conversations are easy. Anything that puts me in a vulnerable place makes me run for the hills.

With you, I think I accidentally gave vulnerability a shot. I will never admit this to anyone for as long as I live, but I think I trusted you? I am pretty sure I still do - I don't believe you are a bad person or untrustworthy. Not only that, but I genuinely feel like you held space for me and listened to me ever so patiently.

I should not be getting teary-eyed listening to Anuv Jain and writing this. Mishri got me.

Anyway, back to my point.

Absolutely disgusting, this, and I can't believe what I'm typing, but I felt understood. Even admitting that, albeit just on a blog post that hopefully no one will read (watch this become my most engaged with post), makes me want to throw myself off a bridge. Around you, I felt like I could just be, with all my worries and anxieties and fears and hopes and dreams and

And I could talk to you about them, and you'd always have the perfect response. This is sickening.

So many words to say that I felt safe. Appalling.

I don't think anyone can even comprehend how difficult it was for me to admit all of this. I've been writing about this on my private Twitter account, but it is literally for my eyes only. So many threads have been written about so many things, thoughts that will never see the light of day.

But a part of me wanted to share this with the world, and maybe someday, with you. I think you at least deserve to know what you did for me. It is important that I give credit where it's due. A lot of conflicting, confusing feelings, but know that I do not hate you. I just hate this feeling that I'm dealing with, but I know that with time, this too shall pass. I just wish it didn't have to.

And when the sun comes up and the birds are chirping outside my window, I'll be back to feeling like myself. Back to the regularly scheduled content - my work, friends, family and the myriad of responsibilities that I take over. No thoughts, head empty, work only. For the most part, it will all be okay. I will be able to push you away to the back of my mind and focus on the tasks at hand. I'll laugh and have fun, and I'll live in the moment.

But when nightfall arrives yet again, this will be back. I won't always write about it; there's only so many ways I can rehash the same thing and present it in a different way. It's these couple of hours when I can't sleep that I have to somehow get through, when I'm the most unsafe. Restlessly shifting in bed, praying for the clock to move faster so time can take away the darkness. And you.

It will keep happening for a while. It's an inconvenience that I will have to deal with until it ends. This is the price I pay in exchange for some good times and memories (and a boatload of content for this blog). Is it worth it?

Always.

-

If you ever read this, I wonder how you'd feel. I imagine most of you would be quite pleased with yourself. A part of you might feel guilty and almost sorry for me, but please don't. I do not seek your pity and could do without it. I am perfectly fine, and will live. I've gone through this more times than I can count, and this cannot hold a candle to past experiences. I haven't started writing in Bengali about you. That's when you know it's bad.

I am actually quite obsessed with how my workspace looks now.

I miss you and I want to scream that so that the wind could carry my words over to you.

I miss you and I want to scream that so that the Gods would know how wrong they were to put us in this situation.

I miss you and I want to scream that so that there's something louder than the thoughts in my head.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

Get that in your damn head.