FOR A long time, he felt this way again. But he knows this time it’s different. Totally different. Before, those days were just days when he was tired and just doing things like drawing, listening to music, or sleeping will comfort him, will help him a little to forget things which made him feel heavy. But at this very moment, he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand even what he’s feeling.
He tried to draw but he can’t even manage his hand to move. He tried to listen to music but the song, its melody irritates his ears, its sounds turn out to be deafening. He tried to close his eyes, to sleep, but that feelings just got stronger, worse..
Why does he need to carry it alone? He found himself wanting to give up, wanting to quit. But he is a man. And men are strong. Yet not always. Men have their weaknesses. Men have their soft side which they prefer to be hidden. But this time, he can’t hide it. He can’t even manage to carry on. He just wanted the pain to stop, the pain which swallowed him and he allowed that such thing to happen.
He got a lot of things to be done but the only thing he wanted to do is cry. Cry –which others see as a verboten for men. As if seeing a man cries means he is not a man anymore, as if being a man means being a robot, as if being a man means having a heart of stone.
But he doesn’t care anymore, he doesn’t care to anything. Beside, he’s too tired and feeling too empty to care what others thought of.
He wanted to cry maybe because when he does, it will ease the pain. Somehow. He just wanted the pain out of him, out of his system.