sometimes, i chance upon lost connections, the pictures, so unfocused and blurry from the sands of time, their clarity returns and i am struck by the distance. happy faces smiling at me, begging the question of only why i am not in those pictures. it is me, after all, a tendency to self destruct everything i hold dear, in a glaze of madness.
watched before sunrise yesterday, i remember the times, i walked down the streets in singapore, in oxford, in the middle of thenight talking about life, love, relationships to the ghosts in my past and how i felt that proximity, that intimacy that comes over when souls link. i broke away from FY not because i couldn't take her depression, not because I couldn't handle it. It is because our connection was lost as she descended deeper and deeper into it. Without that connection, i felt lost.
I look at my life now and i realised that I have nothing akin to that anymore. In severing my ties with my past, in my attempt to be functional, i have lost that part of my life.