#it'll never overtake my own self hate

[sojournerdiraq]

.

[itsnotmandatorybee]

June 2, 2024

Sunday

4:02 PM

—I'm suddenly awake, and the rain starts falling, but it only lasts a couple of minutes. My sleep only lasted a few hours. For sure, this will last for a number of days.

God knows how therapeutic the rain is and how it is associated with my dillemas, as it makes me tend to write even more. A year ago, I'm holding a beer and soy milk in the middle of the wet road while I'm all soaked and self-driven, fast forward to what happened three years ago while I'm walking as my nails turned purple—I'm thinking it'll be hard to make clothes dry faster, but it's quick to get a cup of coffee and loop in the playlist I saved. Moving backwards, my little me tends to hate the sick beat when these tiny drops of water kiss our roof endlessly.

I figured out that there's nothing new; it's the perk of living alone for three years, and I know exactly what to do. The only difference is that I'm having a hard time composing what I exactly need to write—I don't have a heart to recognise my emotional state as if it's one of the millions of emotions that I need to experience... that I'm no smart when it's the coldness that overtakes the role of my fan.

God knows how therapeutic the rain is, and now it's giving me a doubt, but I'm giving Him more chances for me to believe He was right.

It's quick for me to get this thing straight: I'm all alone when it's raining.

Each time whenever it's impossible for me not to open the journals I have had for years, all I write about are my frustrations, my insecurities, my reasons to be happy, my appetite cascading in my stomach, and the fog cascading through my lungs, 'til the moment I admit that there's nothing I can do but to live this way. Don't get me wrong—I'm not sad. People might misinterpret me the way I act, but journals never fail to interpret my apathic soul, contradicting my indulgences not to kiss but to tell.

I remember this line from someone a year ago: “I will stand with you in the rain when I no longer have the strength to hold an umbrella for you.”

This is somehow one of the sweetest words I have ever heard in my life. I never picture myself this way; like, a few weeks ago, I had this co-worker mention to me that he saw me walking in the middle of the night while it was raining. I simply gave him the reason, but there's absolutely more than that.

If I don't have someone to stand with me in the rain when I no longer have the strength to hold an umbrella, then what should I do?

Walk. Just walk. Then get a cold afterwards. Then take a few medicines until I'll get back to my own strength... and get close to what comes next.

If I don't have someone to stand with me in the rain when I no longer have the strength to hold an umbrella, I'll simply stop to think that there'll be someone who can do it for me. I'm used to it.

Regret. Just regret. Until the rain stops afterwards. Then I'll take myself out of the league 'til I can get back on the way home... and try to unlearn if possible.

If I don't have someone to stand with me in the rain when I no longer have the strength to hold an umbrella, I'll think about the days I have the strength to hold one. At least I was capable of doing it in my dog days. At least I was capable of not freezing my memory in time,

and I think it's beautiful.