The Serial Killer: Losses

Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.

I’ve lost many things in life. Lost opportunities, lost love, lost time, lost books, lost friends, lost competitions. Some of these have less significance than others. But I do feel that something has died in me whenever I felt that I’ve lost something. Yet I hate that feeling of vulnerability, I hate that feeling of feeling exposed or admitting to losing.

Sometimes I wish I had more support around me. Being brought up by numbers and results, I was taught to only trust results. Anything less, and I was considered as not good enough. It hardened me, it built walls around me. I also live in an environment where most conversations feel superficial. Brief and very shallow, I feel judged for the decisions I act upon. Even now, I have moments of being in a trance of unemotional reaction. It was way too risky to let too many people know how I truly felt. Because it drives me crazy to let certain people know of my weak points. Because sometimes it feels like my effort has been thrown back into my face.

Only in times of complete privacy do I have the chance to truly cry. It’s a lonely feeling, but I do it because I cannot trust people enough with my emotions. It’s a harsh reality that I face everyday, but it’s a coping mechanism. Not a healthy one, I know, but it works in most situations.

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