Give Me All Your Pain

26. The Cold Mess

Abhinav

For me, everything was insignificant, just a sequence of fleeting moments.

Things happening around me were akin to a series of empty gestures, hollow and insubstantial.

It was like I was underwater, and everything around me seemed distant- people talking, moving, their emotions.

Joy, sadness, love – they all were elusive concepts.

Even my own existence felt like a shadow, a phantom that moved through a world that held no significance.

People gathering around held no interest to me. Why waste my time mingling with those who couldn't possibly match my intellect?

Their conversations revolved around topics I found banal, their interests were trivial, and their lives, inconsequential.

The waves of laughter and conversations of people around me were like echoes, fading as soon as they reached my ears.

I had no desire to engage with their mediocrity.

The world held no color, no resonance until.....her.

Her presence in my life was a puzzle, a jigsaw piece that didn't quite fit into the grey landscape I had grown accustomed to.

I never thought I would ever crave to be around someone so much.

The allure of being near her, the anticipation of hearing her voice, was becoming an irresistible force I couldn't ignore. Our conversations evolved beyond mere exchanges of words; her smile, her thinking, the way her eyes lit up while sharing her thoughts—all of it was etching itself into my consciousness.

Every interaction, every stolen glance toward her, made me realize that what I was feeling was unlike any emotion I had known before.

When she wasn't around, even in a world that was already draped in shades of grey, it managed to become even duller.

Physically, I had never experienced an attraction to anyone. For me, bodies were like vessels, lacking the allure that often captivated others.

The idea of touching a woman had never held any importance in my mind, not due to an inability but rather because I had never seen the act as holding any particular significance.

However, with her, everything was changing.

The fluttering in my chest, the restlessness in my fingers as they itched to touch her – they were sensations I had never associated with anyone else.

I had never experienced such intense desire for another person before. It was as though an unquenchable hunger for her was expanding inside me.

"Are you really in deep thoughts or pretending so, that you don't have to talk to me?" my psychiatrist inquired, observing me as I reclined in the chair, my vacant gaze directed at the white ceiling.

"You're the psychiatrist. Shouldn't you attempt to make an educated guess?" I responded, my gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

There was a brief pause, during which I could sense his scrutiny. "Are you the same person who was desperate to have a conversation with me at 2 a.m.?" he questioned.

A mistake.

I glared at him. "I wasn't desperate."

"Alright, let's say you weren't," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips, one I wished I could erase. "But you still haven't explained why you called me that night, the day before yesterday, saying you couldn't sleep."