castles made of sand

I have chosen to remain muted these last few weeks, apologies once again Maria but words fail to annotate and amalgamate within, only interpreted by a few sly sobs that manage to escape my expertly hardened poker face.

I have been excessively overwhelmed these last two months. And that, coupled with severe frustration over a powerless struggle to finding solace and rest in sleep has left me listless.

It’s the usual culprits that plague. Those relentless money woes that seemingly have taken residence as my full-time shadow. Blanketing anything it touches; darkening days. Unyielding and without mercy. At this moment, the thorn at my side is my cousin’s wedding which fast approaches. In fact the official RSVP date has already superseded by two days and here I am, doing what I do best; avoidance.

Hiding away, purposely thwarting social media in hopes of not stirring unwanted attention. I’m on borrowed time; something I am painfully aware of. I’ve set myself a frantic mission to find a solution. Searching for a way. But alas, I have found nothing. To most, I realise they would have withdrawn from this race long ago, saved themselves from unnecessary strain and heartache but for me, everything inside screams to carry on. To not give up, that a way will be made. My intuition even goes as far as urging me to reply with a confident “yes” every time I eye that invitation, which rests atop a commode, taunting me like that wretched raven Nevermore.

To just say yes and figure the rest out later.

But I can’t do it.

I’m fearful of retribution and looking like the damned fool I am. Worst yet, letting someone increasingly important to me down.

There is less than thirty days to the event itself and I am 100% prepared. I have thoroughly researched my flight details, the car hire and my formal attire for the occasion. An elegant, form-fitted black dress paired with lovely nude heels by Schutz. My days are planned away, two weeks of sightseeing and mingling with family that have forever left footprints on my heart.

image via bible of eve

If only it were as simple as reaching into my head and extracting it all into this heinous reality of mine.

I could happily travel there and revel in good times with family and dear friends. Escapades to neighbouring towns. Bustling metropolises and outlet shopping followed by copious margaritas at night. A wedding day, one filled with much excitement, chivalry and friendship. Dancing, happiness and booze. A night reconnecting with friends I thought had long forgotten me.

Caracoling late into the starry night and passing out from pure exhaustion onto the floor of a hotel room and sleeping, sleeping so peacefully; the first night since many.




3 thoughts on “castles made of sand

  1. I am still hoping you find a way… that a way will be made… I know I shouldn’t urge you to keep believing so that you don’t get hurt if it doesn’t work out… yet I am the eternal optimist … and I believe eventually a way will be made xox

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