I woke up in this alien place and I live amongst its alien people and follow its alien rules. I do what I do not want to do, I say what I need not have said and I live the life I evaded for so long.
I ask myself: What am I doing, where am I going, what will tomorrow be like, who am I in this place? Who is this stranger I’ve become? How and when did I lose it? What’s happened?
Life happened. I slept in peace but awoke to chaos, I slept among my family but woke to bereavement, I slept to the joyful sound of true friends and awoke to the sounds of shattering glass and false laughter, I slept at home but awoke at a loss, I slept to the touch of my love but awoke to abandonment. I slept with warmth flooding my body and awoke to the fingers of cold creeping all over me.
I went out to outer space, but felt the world tighten around me; I felt trapped and bound. I went out to bustling New York: I felt lifeless. I went to Paris, the city of romance, and felt abandoned. Deserted. I saw the statue of freedom and felt imprisoned. I made a new home but its walls closed in on me. I stood under the clear blue sky; my lungs yearned for a breath of fresh air. I stood under the morning sun; all I could see was darkness. I went to Italy, Rome; I missed the antiquity I had always loved. I read a book…and failed to grasp its meaning…
But all was fine till I shut my eyes for too long and lost sight of the lighthouse that had vowed to forever lead me back to who I am or, rather, was. The candle I lit in the dark ended up extinguished; my only haven gone. The candle that showed me hope in a hopeless world, that gave a meaning to this pointless life of mine, a meaning to everything around me, is now long gone. When everything went wrong, when the world hit me so hard from all around, my candle was the pillar that had my back – the one thing that made everything else alright.
Without a candle, I am now alien to myself.