Prose

You killed me or Maybe I killed myself.

When we were on the verge of moving apart, I went into a state of mental paralysis. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or just mere anticipation of the moment that drove me mad. I was like a country that was suddenly being attacked by forces it couldn’t comprehend. I held on to every little thing in a bid to salvage whatever remained of me but I was failing. I became too technical about the entire incident. I watched videos read a million articles on the science of the heartbreak. I somehow believed it was the only thing capable of saving my life. Heartbreak affects the same part of the brain as cocaine withdrawal and this fact was my painkiller. I refused to see it as a human, became more of a machine every day. The human in me revolted and it was like a civil war breaking out when the country is already being torn apart by external forces. I sought a doctor who could kill the human inside of me. She reluctantly enabled my access to drugs that would make me a machine but save my life.

I wanted to unsubscribe from those early morning dreams of you, a million questions I was throwing at you that you believed you didn’t owe me answers to. I think you knew, I’d be gone once I found my answers. So you decided to play with my head. You knew me so well, and it was my undoing of self. I gave you the right to destroy me and destroy me, you did in a bid to never let me go. You patronized me instead of just blurting out the truth. You were scared of the truth. From where I was standing, I wasn’t the least bit scared of it. Those pills couldn’t stop my dreams, but they stopped my ability to process them. I saw you like you were a movie on TV. I woke up, rushed to the cabinet where my pills were neatly placed. Those pills burned my stomach so I had to eat and I had to keep myself hydrated. At least, I was consuming food.

I could see my world falling apart, shattering glasses and orphaned shoes on deserted streets but it didn’t faze me. The human inside me was dead and you could see it in my eyes. I broke down every now and then, but the drugs worked well to keep me stable. I ate them for 8 weeks. Did you know, it takes 4weeks to make something a habit? In 8 weeks I was sufficiently a machine who could mimic a human so perfectly my folks were pleased. It was like building a swanky makeshift mall in a graveyard. When the lights went out, it was the playground for ghosts. Ghosts of our past.

They say it’s no big deal, and time would sort it out. If only time could bring back the dead. You left me vulnerable to the vultures that told me if I could be used by you, I could be used by them. Fortunately, now I was run by a fuel and not emotions, so it was okay to hear such disgraceful words being said. I was asked to stop dreaming and start conforming. What was my fault? I let you get away easy or that I loved you.

I told you that I wanted nothing to do with you. I wanted to left alone in my own world. It was easier than choking on your lies every day. You acted like a victim but I was the one who died as a collateral damage of your cowardice.

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