Red Wine & Sleeping Pills by The Narratographer

Red Wine & Sleeping Pills by The Narratographer

Each and every one of us has a place we are supposed to be. A place where you feel warm, loved and where sadness never reaches you. Everything is as it should be, everything is in it’s right place. You start to realise that the winds of life, however harsh and turbulent, were simply blowing you in this direction. It was always supposed to be your destination, but it is only in the moments of quiet reflection that you realise you’re home. You do everything you can to love and nurture this new place you now call home. You protect it, you hold it as close to you as you can and you squeeze it so tight, it can surely never disappear. But what if it does? You have let down your guard so much that whatever it is that you now hold inside your heart, now has the power to kill you. It is only when you allow something completely, unequivocally inside you, that it has the power to break you completely. So you build a wall. You do everything in your power to protect your new world and the feelings that come with it. But somehow, fear and insecurity finds you and they circle the towering fortress that you have built. They are armed to the teeth, with everything they need to tear you limb from limb, from heart to soul. You worry, you fret; you wonder how long it will be before they break down your defences and destroy everything you need. And they will succeed, they always do. The more one cherishes something, the more he or she is likely to lose it. From that moment on, nothing will feel the same. You will become numb to the world and the voices within it. Nothing will mean anything and you will wonder how you can ever carry on. You were fine before, but somehow they meant so much to you that they have transformed your heart into something only they have access to. They became your world, they became your life, they became your reason – but they never quite knew it. So life moves on, but you never will. You will always be a shadow of your former self, wondering why it had to happen in the first place. Why did karma decide to fire its poisonous arrow in your direction. You will amble from place to place, wondering why it had to happen to you and how you will ever force a smile ever again. Life will become internalised, with nothing more to show for it than a sea of random thoughts. You will analyse, scrutinise, beg yourself for forgiveness. At the end of the longest day, before the isolation of night, you will ever so slightly warm yourself, melting the tip of the ice in your heart. At least I gave it everything.

The Narratographer: Photos