I can’t believe this is just the sixth letter I am writing to you. It feels like I have been writing you for ages, telling you undeserved stories and keeping you up to date with my goings on. Not that I hate any of it, but I thought it had to be the 60th letter by now. At least it feels so. The feeling of exhaustion is not minimal, if I may say.
Coming to today’s or shall I say this year’s first letter, it does not in any way give me immense pleasure to tell you that for the most part of my new year I have been ill, drained of energy and lacked the luxury to even get out of bed. I realize I am using the term ‘luxury’ in all the wrong senses but that is how it is. Not that I started this year with any hopes, but the start that I have had has diminished any sense of positivity left in me. This was the first time in years that I was going to start a year with no hopes, and even no resolutions, letting time decide how I shall float. I guess time wants me to drown. So while I am still a little afloat, and my freezing fingers can still write let me tell you that I miss you. I miss you in not only regards of your presence, but also in regards of your energy, of your optimism, of your faith, that in the end, even if I drown, there will be a fairy land for me below the ocean, where I just might be able to live a life of a mermaid. I miss your warmth, I miss your touch, I miss telling you that I miss you. I didn’t tell you ever that I missed you, I do now. I am saying it now. I have forgotten how it feels to be held. I have forgotten the mere existence of belief. I am now soaked in the trenches of pessimism, swallowed deeper and deeper. I am trying to kick and pull myself back, as always I am trying to defeat all the powers. I still believe the myth I repeat on rote- ‘I am strong. I am invincible. I am woman. I am enough. I am I. I will do. I don’t need anyone. I am trying, trust me I am but this time the strength which pulls me down is too strong to even let me hear what I am saying. This time it is different even breathing but then it always is.
I’ll stop wallowing now and let you breathe. I will stop putting my pressure on you.
From amidst the waves,
Read More: Dear Neel #5