As I Look Into The Mirror

My mind has wandered much while lying in the bed. At times it has stalled in its wandering, like when entering a room and then forgetting what for. It stands alone dumbstruck. At those times it has been numb, and when staring at the white walls I have thought of nothing but the fact that I was staring at the white walls.
My mind has bounced from numbness to feeling too much. I've been poked and prodded psychologically and physically. Right there at that moment, I wanted to be on my own to grieve. I wanted to feel sorry for myself without sympathetic words and clinical explanations. I wanted to be illogical, self-pitying, bitter and lost for just a few moments. Please, world, and I wanted to do it alone. But I became weepy and felt such loss inside me as if I would never be filled again. Streaming with tears, I longed for a shoulder but who I should turn to? It was one of the saddest moment in my life but suddenly I realized who I am expecting to be with actually? Wake up! All this while I used to go through almost everything alone. I used to live with what I have. Not once but over and over again. Why I can't face it and handle it now? Why I'm longing for someone in vain?
I raised my head, and I am forced to stare at myself face to face. There is something unnerving about being forced to look at yourself when you are unwilling to come to terms with something. Something raw and real that you can't run away from. You can lie to yourself, to your mind and in your mind all the time. But when you look yourself in the face, well, you know that you're lying. I am not OK. That, I did not hide from myself, and in the truth of it stared me in the face. My cheeks are sunken, small black rings below my eyes, red lines still sting from the tears. But apart from that, I still look like me. Despite this, I look exactly the same. A bit tired, a bit sad, but not falling apart. I don't know what I'd expected. Yet the mirror told me this: You can't know everything by just looking at me. But live, so you do not have to look back and say: 'God, how I have wasted my life.' Accept fate, and move on. Don't yield to the seductive pull of self-pity. Acting like a victim threatens your future.
The painful recent memories will remain at the root for another little while. But I can't wait for them to grow to get rid of them. All the traces must be gone and I need to be strong. I need to move on. Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.

“You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry. Tears are words the heart can't express.”