oxytocin overdose

SHARDS OF  IMAGINATIONS

〈FICTIONAL TRUTH〉

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It must have been a little over a week, but she’s been in a trance-like state where her otherwise acute perception of time had been reduced to a vague background noise. The more she struggled with this feeling that had effectively invaded her heart and taken it hostage, it only grew in intensity and depth. Ironic as it is that her penetrating insight that had never failed her, she wished this feeling was a mere miscalculation, one of starry-eyed fantasizing and naïvety. How ironic that in the past when the same insight detected discrepancies in men she was infatuated with and consequentially discredit their person, she struggle hard to blind herself to this acute awareness and tried to imagine love where it never existed. Her insight had never failed her, but it had never followed her desires either. It was her unbiased comrade, one who wouldn’t budge from the truth no matter how sour it is.

So now, when it had finally located the one she’s been looking for all along, she wants to turn back. Not because she doesn’t want him. She does. More than anything. But how do you explain or rationalize this strange occurrence? How do you explain to someone that you know them as deeply as you know yourself, because your souls are intertwined? How do you tell someone that this feeling that has invaded you, hasn’t invaded in reality, but it has been merely discovered, as it had lay dormant waiting for him. It wasn’t infatuation. She dreaded the implications of what she was feeling, even though her observations and conclusions had never been wrong. How do you tell someone all of this without sounding mentally unstable? That you love them. Not the bubble-gum love in cheesy chick flicks where the girl falls for the guy’s looks or popularity or simply what he could offer her. No, this feeling transpired the tangible. It wasn’t a selfish feeling, it didn’t have a sense of urgency that one is overcome with when one craves pizza or is turned on by an attractive person. It was still and deep. She had a deep care for his wellbeing and was willing to do anything for him even if it proved detrimental to her being.

The kind Welsh boy with the big brown puppy eyes which lent a glimpse into his soul for the one who cared to look. She knew the stories he hadn’t told her yet and his deepest fears. She could peer behind the smoke screen of what was apparent and see what was hidden. She knew all of this because by looking into his soul she was looking into hers.

For a little over a week she had gone through tears, sleepless nights, angry days as her soul was turned upside down and everything came to fore. She tried to communicate what she was feeling without sounding…desperate. As she tried to digest the truth she felt inside, uttering it didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t know the mind games people were skilful in when impressing each other, but she wished that just this time she could wear that mask. The absurdity of the thought didn’t escape her but the anguish of rejection and embarrassment made her want to crawl under a rock and stay there until she ceased to be.

 

She wished he had telepathic abilities to read the long love letters penned eons ago. If he could hear her she would have told him everything.

Yes, she wouldn’t leave a stone unturned until he knew her soul like the back of his hand, or rather…like his own soul. They were soul mates and had a past in another realm, in the world of the souls.

Had she had the courage she would have shared her vision, prediction, with him. Of dreams and aspirations. Of how they would hoist the horizon and set off for another world. How they would set sail and leave this false world behind. How they would retrace their steps to their childhood and never grow up. How they would play hide and seek and make blanket fortress at night and lie there listening to each other’s silence. They would eat ice cream for breakfast and stay up late because they wouldn’t have anywhere to go in the morning.

This wasn’t some wishful fantasy- it was a very real feeling of something that was to come. She knew of it down to the tiniest detail. She wanted him to hold her hand and run away with her from the tattered fibres of this world and run to the fields where grass grew knee-high and they could speak freely without pretext. Where they could resume their ancient story.

They would live in a cabin by a lake. She would spend her days penning the untold stories in her heart and engrossed in listening to the poets of old make sense of her experience.

All her life she had bottled up her love and secrets for him to come along. It got her through sad and shitty nights and gave her the hope she needed to continue on her voyage. Like a thousand fireflies contained in a clear bottle, she had kept it snuggled deep within her heart far from the reach of the harsh winters of life and bludgeoning of hurtful words. She took the beating, never allowing it to round her edges, harden her. So if he came with her to the remote cabin by the lake she would release a thousand fireflies and set them to light up his dark and sombre heart. She would care for him, she would listen to the stories he’s told a million times with such intensity as if the fate of the world rested in the words he uttered, stories people heard but never listened to. She would be his mirror, his shoulder, his rock- only, dawn would disperse this utopia.

***

She awoke startled and in a daze. Was she already in the cabin by the lake? She looked beside her and found that it was her old bed, in her old room upstairs. She quickly came to her senses and it was with a stark feeling of disappointment that the dream gave way to reality. As the first rays of the day found their way through her window and slowly erased away the night in her room, she grit her teeth as she finally had come to a sullen discovery. This was unhealthy, these dreams and fantasies. Her whole body tensed to cushion the crash from the realization. A murmuring yet brute pain shot from her heart and coloured her whole being like a kaleidoscope. She was a love addict and she finally acknowledged what she had swatted away from her consciousness for the longest time. She built castles in the sky because she didn’t belong anywhere; she sought love in others because she thought it’d define her, give her recognition. She always felt invisible and love, however broken and distorted, gave her a place in this world.

Now that she had ripped off that band-aid, she had no crutch. The full implications of this reality set off a rumbling quake deep in her heart that travelled upwards and took control of her shoulders that shuddered with panic. Suppressed emotions that were stifled deep down burst forth like a geyser and she lost herself in a violent rage of emotions that saw her cry like she had never done before. That she lost control only meant that her fears loosened their grip on her. That she hurt so deeply meant that she was alive once again, no longer numb. That she was scared and felt alone meant that she was finally home in her own skin. She’ll be lost for a while before she will come to realize that to find herself she must get lost in the maze that is life.

 

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