I do not feel well. It's been too long since I've felt real emotions, the days are getting heavier and heavier. I think maybe I'm living this life just so I don't end it.
I'm not someone special. I don't even think I'm the protagonist of my own life. My height is average, my beauty does not stand out. Intellectually, I do not contribute anything to society or the people around me, even though my work perhaps dictates the opposite, since I am a professor, a beginner, of history. Despite this, the subject is not something that interests me; My passion, if I can call it that way, is teaching. I don't have many friends, not even the necessary ones. My affection for them is infinite, although I may not make it known.
A day in my life is a looping monotony since I got my degree. I was lucky, which is unusual for me, in getting a job quickly. From then on, the days, the weeks, the months, the years, have become this kind of routine of waking up, working, having dinner and sleeping; all this, obviously, accompanied by my cigarettes. Naturally, one expects that being from the field of social sciences one smokes, which is a stereotype that is correct to my way of thinking, since history, telling events, stories, whether in meetings or in classes, brings with it the smoking habit.
I do not have a couple. I find it difficult to get along with people, not because of a lack of opportunities; On the contrary, I have had several. Rather, I don't find someone interesting enough to get into a relationship, which from what I tell my friends is quite normal these days. People don't listen to me, and I'm dying to be heard. I feel like I have several things to say, many things to talk about, especially complaining, but it is difficult for me to share them. The sensitivity of this era easily irritates me; There are themes that cannot be touched, jokes that cannot be evoked. I have let myself be overcome by this confinement and I have succumbed to my worst fear: not being able to be myself during a conversation.
Anyway, with my friends I can talk to a certain extent about these things. Yesterday afternoon, we were sitting outside a pub that we usually go to every Thursday (don't ask me the reasons because I don't know them), and a topic came up that we had never touched on. My friend Pablo, an archaeologist and also attractive to all women, asked me about my ex-partners. Suddenly, my mind traveled to high school. A lump in my throat prevented me from responding quickly, so I thought about my answer carefully, denying the memory. I responded that I had not had a partner.
What at the time may have seemed like a comment that aroused some well-intentioned ridicule left me thinking. Therefore, I find myself unable to sleep. A memory captivated me, I realized that I had been off guard all these years and, simply, anxiety welled up in me. That distant couple, at the time, represented a bundle of adolescent emotions: love, fear, madness, hatred... It was a beautiful, fleeting story; It only lasted a few months. There was no other woman in my life who has captivated me enough so far to give her my full attention like I did back then.
And now, I'm alone. I realized that she was alone. After years of being focused on my career, friendships and distractions, a cloud of thoughts settled over me on this Friday night, and to my misfortune, I have no one here by my side to share them. How strange life is sometimes for someone who doesn't want to live it, but also doesn't want to end it. I find myself in mortal limbo and feel like I can't escape.
I decide to go out to smoke, and the curiosity to know how she was doing, what she was doing and who was that girl who knew how to be my great love invaded me. I look for her on her social media, with some hope that she is available. Of course, the anxiety of knowing that consumed me. I'm glad to see that she is in a relationship, but a discomfort began to grow since I resolved this mystery. At the end of the day, I deduce, there are no more opportunities for me in love or, perhaps, I should open myself to those that come. I don't want to think anymore. I'll go to sleep.