#5 it's the not knowing that hurts the most.

For the past two weeks I've been living in a place of non-existence. A place hard to find and untangible for the common people. A place defined by the not knowing, weariness and to some extent guilt. A place that can mark your very core if you'll let it. Unfortunately I did. And it was probably more tormenting than anything I've ever experienced with all its complexity and immensity.

Every single morning I opened my eyelids only to stare into a ceiling and feel as if I was unable to move. Because I literally was. Each day this feeling of emptiness consumed me more and more. Yet, I didn't feel empty. I felt...incomplete, as literary geniuses would probably put it.

It felt as if someone had placed a cement bag on my chest. And covered it with more bags ever since. And I couldn't remove them completely, instead I carried them on my shoulders.

My throat felt as if someone wrapped a thousand of invisible hands around it. Then, as you could predict, my heart probably pumped less and less blood, as my face started to become more and more pale and the bags under my eyes became darker and darker and my fingers got more and more bloody from all this worry.

Sometimes the pain, this stinging feeling, migrated to the lower parts of my body, like my stomach, or limbs even. And there was nothing I could do about it.

One day I starved myself, feeling more and more apathic towards everything and anything. Other days, I made a pig of myself, to the oblivion. I guess that was just my way of trying to deal with that heaviness and blurriness that affected my body and soul.

But, obviously it didn't help. Even the coffee lost its taste, without being able to share my days with you in one way or another. My only escape from it all was sleep. So I slept. For a quarter or so, subconsciously feeling more and more helpless. Or for seven hours...and woke up onl to feel more lost than before.

And I didn't want to admit it to myself. I sure as hell didn't want to...but it was inevitable for me to face the truth. It was true. A part of me was missing. A part that you have so graciously shaped in the past few months.

So I often envisioned you coming through the door...either the door of my room or a classroom at the university. Dressed in several garments that seemed to have suited you in the past, with the glasses on your nose and me noticing every single detail about your unearthly body - your cheeks sunken, under the pressure of you grinding your teeth, that little vein pulsing on your forehead, and obviously a black-heart pendant around your neck. I pictured you walking in, glowing, looking better than ever and flashing this shiny smile at me as if nothing has happened. And I was ready to believe that, when 'seeing' you in all your glory. But deep inside I knew. I knew that it wasn't real. I knew that something has happened...and I knew that you wouldn't come.

In my usual pattern of behavior, I went and tried to silence it at least for a minute in the arms of another...But even that didn't help...Not even their shiny smile helped to overshadow what you had brought into my life, before you left so abruptly and left me wondering why....This lightness, weightlessness, a feeling that I could accomplish anything I want....and basically, wholness.

As a result I felt even more paralyzed than ever...dirty, deteriorating, spiralling out of control. Both in my thoughts and actions, body and soul. I felt like a zombie and a lunatic at the same time...And I even tried to convince myself that it was all my fault, that I made it all up in my head, that you didn't care about me to begin with..But as I went through some of our very first and last conversations, I was proved wrong. We both know it. It was real, at one point. Then again, it wasn't so anymore, I guess...

And this distress kept coming in waves...not waves of tears, waves of sickness. And after I've went and tried to numb it it only got worse. It was as if someone put a stake through my heart and I felt that I wouldn't be able to undo what's been done. And I won't be. Because it affected me, as a person...and made me realize that there's no cure to this condition...no cure other than you finally letting me know what the hell is going on. I could handle anything. Anything would be better than the not knowing.

And as I knew less and less and felt as if this untangible rift between us started to become deeper and deeper I pathetically knew more and more within my heart that you are, in fact, the only one who can fill it...at least at the time being.

And now I know. About myself. And about you. Looks like it turned out dramatically different for both of us. I don't know what will happen now. But I am thankful that you put a stop to misery, at least temporarily. 'Cause I was miserable without you. And if it were up to me, I don't want to feel this way ever again. About YOU. Either by letting you go completely or drowning ourselves within this connection that we hopefully still have.