The wind has knocked me out. As cliché as it sounds, it is actually as succinct as I can get.

It is almost bizarre how one moment can change my perspectives and thoughts about things. It’s like that one moment or second, or maybe even one minute, I am seeing through the hidden truths that are previously immaculately tucked away at the back of my conscience. My heart skips a beat as the harsh beam of reality shines my way, blinding my eyes. I step sideways but the spotlight is unrelentingly spilling its truth molecules into my every brain cell. I can’t see anything else through the stark bright light, my old reasoning is paralysed under the intense reality beam and I’ve just lost my rose-tinted glasses. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale slowly. My tears welled up at the corner of my eyes, slowly wetting my eyelashes, clinging, until at last coursing down my cheeks, reminding me of a hope that has just been let go and is crashing down on to the earth. I blink my eyes a few times, and everything else feels clear. My heart is thumping dully against my ribcage. I always have a drawer full of supplies of band-aids, but tonight, no amount of band-aids can patch it up to its former lively self, because it is breaking.

I know it is the moment to let go. I am a psychic. I have visions of this moment of shattering dreams and blighting hopes and walking away ages ago. In fact, I have always known that I should have just stepped out those months, ago. Now on the hindsight, I wonder if I fare off better if I were brave enough to venture off then? Would I have spared myself from this deep remorse and dejection? Would I have saved that beating core from being squashed to pieces? But even with these ruminations plague-ing my mind, I know myself. I have always been a psychic, who is a dreamer and who believes in magic and miracles. I have always been a psychic who has been constantly wearing thick rose-tinted glasses because the glasses let me view beautiful pictures even though they obscure elements of reality. I have always been a psychic who is stubborn and only wants to believe in what she wants. I have been a psychic, who has let her guard down and foolishly loves another mortal even though deep in her heart she knew the chances of that feeling to be mutual is closer to nil. You see, I am a stupid psychic.

I have always taken pride in having control of what I am feeling. I have always vented out my frustrations and ranted my boiling anger and record my happy cheers and giddiness on the blank pages of my little spiral bound diary in the middle of the night or on some nights, in the drafted pages of this blog. I have always been able to correctly identify what I have been feeling and there is something comforting over knowing my own emotions – like knowing my true self.

But over a period of time, it is like, I have lost that inkling, that psychic power, that intimate relationship between my physical self and my emotional sides. And it is only when perspectives-changing moments like now provoking the harsh truths to surface, that my mind becomes clearer. All these while, I have been living in my own dreamy world where words are sweet and sentences hold encoded messages when in reality, they are not. It is like an out-of-body experience whereby I sit at the corner of my bed and yet at the same time I see myself shaking my body, shrieking at myself to wake up to the slapping reality. It is like I have developed a superhuman vision and is seeing right through every misguided hopes that I have. I cry and wonder why I have let myself to fall like this when I know I will only get hurt?

Why oh why do I let myself be blinded by this? Why do I always want something that I couldn’t have? This is a story of one lonely, unrequited love. Ha.. I am using the term love rather loosely here when everyone knows that you clap with both hands, not one. We have always been friends, I don’t know when exactly I start to harbour something else for you. Your silly arguments and sarcasms have always irritate me, I don’t know when I start to find them endearing. I have always been non-chalance about what people thought of me, I don’t know when your opinions and thoughts start to matter. I have always been independent, I don’t know when I start to look you up whenever I am in distress. I have always evaded the one emotion that I hate the most, fear. But lately I have this immense fear of losing your friendship. (and you.)

I turn around expecting you hanging around, but you, the robot, has gone. I have just woken up from a very long dream.