It wasn’t always like this. There are times when certain stimuli - a familiar face, or a nostalgic song – evokes times reminiscent of the somewhat carefree joy of what seemed to be another life. Was it carefree really? Or is this just another attempt by this already vulnerable mind to hide the ugly? No idea. Nevertheless, these serendipitous moments are just about what lifts my spirits these days.
“At least I’ve seen the world in colour before…”, I convince myself. Amidst the mindless monochrome drone of menial tasks that occupy everyday life, the thought of the existence of proverbial “better days” bring a faint smile to my otherwise grim profile. True, at least I wasn’t born blind. But somehow this deceitful heart perpetually desires more, to satisfy the all-devouring void inside me.
I look to empty wells to quench my parched tongue; in a desperate attempt to claw my way out this wasteland of a mental landscape. Anything to numb the hunger, the lust for fulfilment. Games, approval from those around me, sleep, pandering to others – these are but a fraction of my spiral down into depravity. Then, wonder struck.
Vibrant hues of any colour imaginable flushed into view. First peripheral, then the entire scene before me exploded. It was as if Technicolour was first invented. Overjoyed. Relieved. Overwhelmed. Then, as quickly as it came, the colour all leached away. She left.
The next months were spent in a frantic effort to relive the colour. Meetups ended with me gasping for air as my chest tightened as the greyscale nightmare creeped back, bringing with it that ever-ravenous void.
Was I satisfied with the brief reprieve that she gave me? How could I not be? But I knew that the way things were going, it would be soon before my world would stay grey forever. The heart is capricious, waxing and waning but always desiring more.
I am at a loss.
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