The sense of nothing

I woke up this morning with the taste of champagne still on my lips. My hands automatically searching for my phone which is surely on the brink of death. Found the phone. I open it to unread texts and a photo album from the night before. A sunset lamp, the main character of the night, turned my house into a scene from Euphoria and pictures had to happen. I rolled out of bed. My slippers were not in the spot they were supposed to be. The floor feels like an ice skating rink. Clutching my phone like a shield. I found my charger. Tip toe to the bathroom. The floor. I turn the faucet on and splash some cold water on my face. Another day has come. Last month of the year and I can’t help but feel like this the beginning.

I’ve been thinking a lot about nothing recently. Living my life teetering between nihilism and existentialism. Enjoying everything almost carelessly. After enduring yet another romantic heartbreak this summer, I decided enough was actually enough. I became tired of myself in the middle of July. Everything hurt. Going to the pool with friends, bored. Going out to the bar, uninterested. Watching the fireworks, never witnessed anything uglier. My life was one long yawn that I couldn’t shake. I was boring myself.

The summer ended and fall came. I decided to up the ante and switch from existential dread to pure chaos. Living my life like a bat out of hell. I indulged in everything. Stay up until 5am and go to work at 9am, sure. Leave my perfectly put together home, hole up in my friends house for endless days without a change of clothes with the curtains drawn just to feel like someone on the run, amazing. My hands smelled like smoke. I swear every time I looked in the mirror my reflection laughed at me. What was I doing? I do not know who I was trying to convince or what I wanted to prove. I was in the midst of the aftershock that was a mental breakdown. Instead of dealing with myself, I just put myself in every distraction possible. Instead of asking myself if I was okay, I continued walking through the caution tape until I could feel something. Anything.

It’s winter now. I can’t find my phone. I’ve had two matcha lattes today. I decided to write on this blog again. I deleted everything from the last one and decided to start over. The air is full of heavy cold. I’m always holding my face. Where’s my phone? I feel again. Feeling in that way that only a person who has experience crushing sadness can feel. My hands smell like vanilla. The memories of this past year flash by like the landscape on a train. I have that constant feeling that can only be described as when you put your hand out the window while driving. I forgot the path I was running on was a circle. I eventually ran into myself.

I feel settled. I feel ready to start my beginning at the end. Welcome back.