Break.

What if I told you it's getting very difficult to breathe?

I can't be with you, I can't be without you. I don't know what to do with myself anymore.

I don't want to be around humans but I loathe being alone. I hate being alone- since when? I can't speak up, I don't have a voice. I cannot argue, I only hurt people when I open my mouth. God, everything hurts. I know I'm tearing myself apart but I cannot seem to stop. I'm staying away from most people now. Or if I'm around them, I don't talk to them. I don't laugh anymore. I can't bring myself to. Not that I pride myself in being someone who laughs a lot, but whatever little happiness I laughed for, it's gone.

What happened to me, who am I? Who have I become, where are all my friends? The ones who promised to have my back when I fall?

I'm utterly, completely alone.

I know this now. He won. What he said came true. It's true.

And I don't know what to do, so I'll just live. There's nothing else I can do.

I need to go back home.

I'm not worth it. I don't deserve anything at all. I am nothing.

Memory.

“But we are the sum of all the moments of our lives--- all that is ours is in them: we cannot escape or conceal it. If the writer has used the clay of life to make his book, he has only used what all men must, what none can keep from using. Fiction is not fact, but fiction is fact selected and understood, fiction is fact arranged and charged with a purpose.”

-          Thomas Wolfe’s Preface to Look Homeward Angel

Im falling back into old patterns. Fake laughter, fake smiling. And this time it’s so believable, it surprises me more than anyone else. Nobody’s really been able to see through the façade this time and I’m glad, albeit I ought to admit it hurts as well- shouldn't they be able to? Then I reassure myself that I'm just wearing my masks a lot better than I used to. Just what the doctor ordered.

  

Heres the thing about masks- you can choose whoever you want to be BUT you HAVE to be careful who you choose to pretend to be. You could feel comfortable in any mask- the princess, the pauper, the depressed soul, the damaged one, the unbreakable one, the strong-willed one. ..  you might just lose your real self in them all, but that’s okay too. Everyone is bound to lose themselves in one way or another. I’m just one of few who actually fit into THIS category- truly being nothing else but an actress in her own respect.

That’s who I am. The person who can wear any mask and pull it off perfectly- like it is meant to be.

That’s the beauty of who I am. Call me a Machiavellian. Seems apt. I will adapt in any skin, just give me a role to play and consider it perfected. I will sing the songs, and strut my stuff. I will laugh ever so loudly, the room will have to laugh with me. I will shed a tear when it’s appropriate to do so. . . I will fake feeling ‘cause it comes ever so easily to me.

Why?

‘cause I’m numb inside. I once felt emotion on even grander scales than you could even imagine. Felt them so much they drained me completely. Soon enough, I felt nothing, but I knew what to say to stir someone up. I knew how to calm someone down without feeling the need or want to. I just do.

That’s what makes me such a brilliant actress. This ability to manipulate emotions and be the puppeteer of all these insignificant little beings! I can ruin anyone, I could consume them in one breath. The power is all-consuming, and ever so much more wonderful than any mortal would know!

Oh! This power. It takes over my body, and makes my head spin with pleasure. It’s better than any drug, any human emotion! Its FAR better than being ecstatic. It overwhelms my body, my soul, it grants me one thing no human has ever been able to give me- peace.

It takes away the pain, and heals newly- opened wounds. It veils that which is unbearable to look at, and accentuates the beauty. It hides everything from your eyes save for what YOU wish to see.

Oh, how easy it is to be the Mistress. How wonderfully nauseating human beings are proving to be! How breathtakingly easy it is to make you feel what I want you to feel. .  . and yet, you see nothing.

I can stick a knife through your heart, and you will feel only that which I want you to feel. I will command and you will follow because you’re the lesser being, the one who tried to steal it all away from me and ended up with nothing. I will slice you open and show every hideous scar to the world! I will ruin you, for I am TRUTH.

I will strip you of your accolades and show them the sins you committed in order to get them. I will rip you apart, just to make you feel the way they did when you robbed them of their treasures, no matter how small. You will burn in the deepest, fiery pits of Erebus. I will show them what you are truly made of and I will make you bleed for it. I am JUSTICE.

I will not weep for your shames and I will not grant you hope. I will take away everything you believe in ‘cause you tried to take away everything from me. I am REVENGE.

I will never forgive you. I will make you hurt so much, the unbearable pain will make you beg for mercy till you have breathed your last breath. I am REGRET.

Yet, I will let you die.

Call me MERCY.

I wear my masks so tight, you couldn’t tell them apart from me if you tried.

Beware of me, I am Memory.

Sometimes and forever more.

You seemed familiar. You really did. I felt a connection, or was I just kidding myself?

I look in the mirror, see another me. Thinner, tired, yet bright and sun-shiny. Laughing got easier, pain, easier to dismiss. How? I used to wallow in it.

He died. He left me, just like that. In the blink of an eye. All gone.Done. Over. Zero. Zilch. Ka-put. Just like that, he was gone. The pain overwhelmed me. I remember mustering every ounce of my strength, however little it might have been, just to text a friend. All it said was "He died."

It took hours to bring myself to type that out- it seemed too real. How could it be?

Just like that. At the snap of your fingers, he  . . . died.

It doesn't get real. No matter how many times I tell myself, it just does not get real. This isn't denial, is it?

Where are you, now? What must you be doing? How are you? HOW ARE YOU!

I can't seem to get hysterical anymore. Saying you died is easy, believing it. . . clearly, still need to work on that. But I suppose it's my belief you're right here, beside me. Explains why it got easier to breathe. How you must hate how much I cried. . . cry. Always you I shed tears for- it's like, no matter how difficult everything around me gets, if I shed a tear, my only thoughts are about you. Am I searching for excuses to cry so I can keep you in my memory? I know human memories fade, but yours are still fresh. Your memories are still, and always will be freshly opened wounds.

Sometimes, I can't look my parents in the eye. Can't bring myself to.

Sometimes, I can't see myself in the mirror, not even for an instant.

Sometimes, I shun going near another dog, Bruso included, only because I deserve to grieve.

Then, you make life easy. You make it laughable. That strength comes to me out of nowhere- the same strength you gave me just by looking at me with your ever soulful eyes. Baby, how much I miss you.

I shall not grieve anymore. I shall remind myself of your beauty, strength, intelligence. Of the wonder, kindness, love, warmth you gave me, and so many others. Of everything you have done for me, everything you have guided me through. I'll remind myself of the good times, because that's what you would want. I swear to do right by you. For as long as I'm on this planet, without you, I will live. In your memory. And only yours.

I love you.

Rest In Peace, Tuffy aka Shadow.

Rest in peace, and wait for me like you always have, because I am waiting for that day you jump on me and cuddle me. . in that place where there's no Tomorrow, just here, now, forever.

Tuffy

I don't know where you are, how you are, who you're with or if you can hear me.

I'm hurting again.

Every day that passes is another day without you.

Every breath I take is a struggle for survival. I'd rather choke and die if it means I can be with you.

I'm hurting.

Sometimes I can see you beside me. That's when I feel it's okay to let go a little. To laugh.

Sometimes the past comes in flashes. The first time I held you.

The evening Janu called and yelled cos you peed in the balcony and I was with Amma for that annual day function in the school she works in.

It hurts that my last memory of you is your remorse at having leaped for the biscuit Athsi was holding for Caesar. I felt your pain. I saw the hurt in your eyes. You went to the other side if the garden and refused to cross the boundary even when I called you. I'm sorry. I wish I had a happier memory if you. I wish that day were frozen in time so I could kiss you again, hug you so you know it's alright. You know that, don't you? I was more concerned about you than Athsi. My baby, my darling, my everything.

Tuffy, when will I see you again?

When will I be permitted to cuddle you to sleep, sneak you onto my bed so you could rest your snout on my stomach, the pillow, or fall asleep in the palm of my hand?

I've started crying a lot and it took till now for me to realize the only thing frustrating me is that you're not here.

The pain won't go away.

It'll be three months in less than a week. How?

I miss your warmth and ache for your love.

You were the best dog anyone could have ever asked for. Nobody will ever take your place.

I'm sorry. I just can't take it anymore. I love you and I hope you can hear me.

I hope you'll greet me when I die. Until then ill have to wait.

I wish it was now.

But you'll know when to call me, right?

You better call me.

It's you I want to see first, okay?

Just you. We'll walk through the doors together, and stay beside each other forever. No more obstacles. No more excuses. Just you and me and the people who we love and have loved us.

But mostly just us.