It has been two months.
I know I’ve been trying to keep myself busy – meeting the soccer girls for walks/food/training, other friends, exercising, nights out, hanging out with mum etc. Hoping one of these many social interactions can distract me from the void.
Once in a while, keeping busy actually helps. For those precious few hours, I’m laughing. I’m relaxed. I’m not swamped by my thoughts. But once the party ends, once the music stops playing… inevitably, it pops up again.
Even in the music, lyrics tug at memories. They whisper of unsaid words and repressed emotions.
Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.
(Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore)
Maybe one day, I’ll find the words. Maybe I’ll never.
Maybe one day, you’ll catch me in a lie. Maybe you’ll never.
Maybe one day, you’ll see it in my eyes. Maybe you’ll never.
Maybe one day, you’ll look back and realise. Maybe you’ll never.
Until then, allow me to play the role I’ve always played.
Perhaps nothing will change.