A moment of weakness...

The click and the tone on the other end indicates that the conversation is over. For now.

Flicking the phone closed, I take a moment to stare at the screen, convincing myself that this is the right thing to do, the right decision to make.

I almost believe myself.

I try not to spend too much time thinking. I'm sure that will do no good at this point of time. What's done is done, spilled milk and all that.

A prickling sensation and a tight clenching in my chest has me gasping for breath, and it is not the first time I damn my stupidity, my sense of impulsiveness.

My strong principles, my pride in self.

I wonder why they are stupid things in the eyes of the world. Everybody seems to have the same thing to tell me. Maybe I should have held on a little longer, maybe I should have borne the degradation a little later.

Maybe I should not be hesitant to lick someone's boots to get my work done.

I wish I understood. I wish I knew why it was bothering me so much if what I did mattered to the world at large. But I live in the world, and not for the first time I wish things were easier for me.

I think about the starving orphans in the world. I should be grateful for all that I have. It only depresses me further.

I don't understand why I'm supposed to be thankful to be better than starving orphans. It only makes the whole thing seem more preposterous.

Everybody has it the same. Same difference.

A sense of panic grips me as I think about the things that have happened, and I sink to my knees in front of the idols I follow in my religion.

I've already been brought to my knees, my pride crushed when I borrowed for the first time, and admitted shamefully that I needed help. I lost faith in myself when that happened.

And I don't want to lose the only remaining faith I have at this point of time. I would be lost even worse than I am now, and I cannot bear the thought.

My chest clenches painfully, and it feels a little harder to see good in the world. A little more, my shoulders slump, a little more I die inside.

It really can't be this bad, can it?

I get no answers from the empty room. I rarely panic in front of others. I am glad to be alone, especially when I am falling apart.

It gets harder every morning to wake up to a purpose. I idly think how it would be to go to sleep one night and never wake up again.

Would anyone miss me? How long would it take for someone to realize something is unusual?

I shake my head, such thoughts never helped when I needed to assure myself that I need to fight another day. I need to be strong for those who believe I am. It worries me that my voice is tinged with bitter regret and wariness in place of the usual confident drawl.

Fortunately, I am yet to lose my touch in making illusions seem real, to be the person that the world expects me to be. Happy in times of difficulty, thankful in times of despair.

It bloody well makes me look masochistic, I think.

I'm still on my knees, my head is bowed in deference or shame, the difference between the two have been blurred a little. The ache in my knees seems almost welcome.

Small punishment for my sins of indulgence, within thoughts of self loathing and harm.

It hurts that I can no longer respect myself, to the point that my reflection is ashamed to look at me. It burns that I can no longer look at someone and think I'm better than them. It's humiliating that even my own mind hates this person I have become.

It will be alright, it will be fine. Things will get better. The only way left to go is up. The night is darkest before the dawn. These have become my mantra when the darkness threatens to engulf my waking mind. They are working, my mind feels better.

I almost convince myself that it is the truth. Almost.

I briefly consider getting mindlessly drunk. I then realize I can neither afford it, nor would I appreciate not being in control of my mental faculties.

It's still a thought, I mentally shrug.

I don't know how long I have been in this state of mental merry-go-round, and I'm startled by the door opening and closing somewhere in the house.

Honey I'm home, I think to myself and smile mirthlessly. I better get cleaned up before my friends see me. It would not do to look anything less than the severe self I maintain.

I get a little extension of my privacy in the small yet comfortable bath chamber. Only the redness of my eyes and the purpling circles under my eyes give away the tiredness my soul experiences, and lately my body has been reflecting.

A splash of water, a little miracle face wash, and I look much better. I could easily blame it on having worked all day on the laptop. I walk out to greet the boisterous bunch that has returned after whatever they do all day. I would do for now.

I would have to.