|  Sujet: WHAT ELSE. ft. Zahra Ziegfeld Dim 21 Mar - 10:34 | |
| WHAT ELSE Everything was plunged in darkness: the moonless night, the surrounding buildings, her apartment, her thoughts. Dark blue ones. As blue as the light reflecting into her glasses as she tried to type a message for the umpteenth time. As blue as her feelings. She was writing a mail because for what she wanted to say, a simple text message would not have sufficed; and she was lacking far too much courage to dare to confront, via a phone call, the one person she considered her best friend and her sister. She was scared. She felt powerless and ashamed, sitting alone in her dining room, laptop on the table, vaguely staring into nothing through her windows. Her only company tonight: a glass and a three-quarter emptied bottle of white wine. Dry.
"...Winnie, I must have lost myself somewhere along the way. I cannot find joy nor satisfaction in anything I am doing, lately. It's been five years now that Anselm is dead. It's been five years now that I feel like a shell of myself. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know where I'm heading anymore. I'm slowly losing interest in everything. Waking up in the morning, showering, pampering myself, going to work, going back home, working some more, second shower of the day, going to bed. It's the same thing every day, every week with a couple of burdensome and boring events punctuating this monotonous life. I can't remember the last time I had fun. I can't remember the last time I felt light and carefree. What am I pursuing? My studies are over. I got a job. I got married. My husband got shot. His son ran my name through the mud but hey, I'm still alright. Life is still going. So what else am I looking for? I'm started to doubt my quest for wealth and power. What am I going to do with it? I have not accomplished anything besides being associated with rich and powerful people. I'm asking you again, what do I have for myself? A house? A car? Jewelry... Great, what else?! What else, for fuck sake... I feel like an accessory in other people's lives. I come, I do my little dance, and I disappear.
Why wasn't I satisfied with my life back then? We were poor, sure, but we had each other. My parents worked overtime to gift us presents for our birthdays and Christmas. They were tired but did everything they could to have multiple quality times with us. I don't know how to explain it, Winnie. I don't want to go back to St Sidwells. I'm happy with where I am now, I just feel like I'm missing something here. A real goal in life, you know? people to love, people to care about. I'm tired of parading and masquerading... you are an amazing lawyer Winona. People need you, they see the value in you. You are fierce, you stand tall. While I feel-"
Stop. She stopped typing. Ctrl+A. Delete. She felt stupid, that's how she felt. Winona did not need to see all that. Besides, Zahra could not find the right words to properly convey her feelings and emotion and structure her thoughts, anyway. Zahra closed her laptop. Numb. She felt numb mentally and physically. Tired. Paralyzed. Vulnerable. So many years spent trying to become more than her parents, more for her parents, more for herself... Now what? What else is there? |
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