Comfort zone

I think I’ve grown accustomed to my comfort zone, as any depressed pessimist would. I’ve accepted the fact that I will never be happy in life and that’s okay. That everyone will leave one day and I will be remembered by nobody except for that hollow space on my mattress that has grown cold. I hope to at least have made an impact on someone and that on a cold breezy morning they will think of me as they ride the bus to their destination. But I doubt that’s going to happen and I’m only setting myself up for disappointment. I feel that one day all memories that we have tried so hard to create and frame will be gone. And no one will ever know about that time I found out I had a tumor, or that time my therapist told me that my father considers me his best friend, or even that time I stayed back a year in highschool. One day everyone you would have known in your life will be dead, and there is no one to say “I had a friend who..” or “My aunt used to..” Even if I had kids, there will come a moment that I will be forgotten. And everyone would have moved on and are completely fine with the fact that the person that helped give them life, is now dead.

I feel my comfort zone has kept me away from meeting new friends. I meet new people everyday, I’m a tour guide after all, but it’s scary making new friends. I just made a new friend and this terrifies me. This new person has intimate details about my life. And I have zero control over this. What is he thinking? What will he do with this information? Is he judging me? Of course he is. We are human beings designed to judge people without us ever even knowing it. I’ve always been a fuck up and that’s okay. My old friends were there when I fucked up so it seemed less horrible at the time. But now I’m suddenly typing down every time I fucked up and every time someone fucked me over for this complete stranger to read and acknowledge. And I can grasp the situation, that I shouldn’t reveal all these things but my execution is lacking and riveting and now we’re at a point where he feels bad for me, and I feel bad for myself.

Is this the person I’ve become? The one that doesn’t know how to open up like a civilized human being, and even if she did, couldn’t be capable of such a taboo thing. I hope that one day I can be vulnerable to this person, or to anyone worth being vulnerable to, actually. That one day I can bring these walls down and let people in. I feel my comfort zone has also kept me from doing things that really bother me, I’m just kidding we’re still stuck at me letting people in.

During these past few years I’ve grown a fascination for Hitler and Stalin. Not that I’m gonna go around wiping out complete nations and religions, but because they were so misunderstood. This is leading to nothing good. In any case all I wanted to refer to was my defensive walls being very much like what the Berlin wall was, on one side it’s very open and emotional meanwhile on the other side it’s the place you would go to if you wanted to be shot at short range by a 9 men firing squad without a bag on your head for expressing emotions. And if we’re being honest here, everyone was and still is afraid of the Red nation as is both sides of my Berlin wall. It may have taken them 28 years to bring down the berlin wall, but is this equation of life equal to whatever I am feeling and dealing with? Will I know how to act responsibly and maturely for the first time when I am 30? I guess this is word vomit.

All these questions were simply a product of a friendship and I hope to one day be able to answer them and understand them in a way that is truly meaningful and life changing. And I hope to have made myself a little more vulnerable to this new friend as he reads this. (If he ever does.)

Kind words and neverending thoughts, Kamla.

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