I love to see people in love. Yet, I wonder if it’s safer to unlove. My cheeks don’t form any dimple when I smile. Nothing looks good on me. I don’t have doe eyes either. Not pretty. Definitely unlovable. All I’ve got is betrayal. The only compliment I get is ‘ why are you so pessimistic ‘. Is that even a compliment?. I haven’t achieved anything in my life that could make my mother happy. I’m the useless and the worthless. How am I supposed to love myself when I can’t even define who I am? They say that the strongest form of love is self-love, yet is it possible to love yourself when you don’t even know what love is? Is this so-called love real? The romantic novels, movies and literature don’t help me at all in this case. I’m a hopeless romantic. I wonder if I’m really romantic because my resting-poker- face does no justice for the viewer. Why do I even exist? No one doesn’t even know my favourite colour. To be honest, I love every colour. What about my favourite month? Not July though. I crave for something that’s non-existent I guess. Is it love? I’m being paradoxical right! That’s the other compliment I get. The rigorous anxiety in me would never grant me peaceful mind. How can I hope for the arrival of a soulmate if I don’t believe in a happy-ending. Are endings happy, I wonder again. Nothing in my life ended happily. The only happy ending is going to be my death. I’m not suicidal either. Dear diary, I apologise for feeding you with bullshit. It’s not like I’ve never being loved, it’s just my fault to not feel it. I, myself can’t help my ownself. I rarely open up. I prefer silence. I have severe trust issues. Well, what do you expect? I overthink. Is it a disease? Do I even make sense? Hmm, love doesn’t make sense either, it’s just a commitment on behalf of a chemical reaction. No offence though. Despite being an introvert, I never felt included. My presence was not acknowledged. I’m not complaining. Am I being desperate for nothing? I need therapy for which I would not be able to afford. Am I really that pessimistic? Please say yes, at least it helps me survive. What am I even writing? I better go to bed and stay awake all night. It’s going to be a hectic day tomorrow.
With feelings you cry;
Without them you die.
Could love ever be a curse?
I wonder if it’s safer to unlove.
Shut down your brain and go to sleep little girl. OK. Again!
I love you diary. Good night.
Rtr. Zainab Musthaq
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