Content Warning: This article contains discussions which some readers may find distressing.
The nights come
And here we go again,
A dance filled with rhythm
And every step has another story to tell.
For now, let us begin, with the sorrowful tale,
Of the struggling journalist, that only fails.
Pain, hunger, love, family, for some reason, all these words seem to connect. Is it irony or maybe a joke? The ones you always love will hurt you most.
Although, what if your problem was something completely different, what if, love never really existed in your life. Instead, it was a facade made of expensive gifts, mockery, a loss of dignity and no respect, hang on, there’s more to tell.
You are, who you are or it is what it is. Although Is it though?
What if who you are, was always hidden behind closed doors unable to burst into society because of the norms and values that people were accustomed to, love more than themselves. I wonder if that’s the case why people usually find a friend group that may be completely different to the family they belong to; or maybe is that the reason why people search for the same people that they know will never accept them.
The struggling journalist had her battles and her struggles. Her nights would be sleepless, her mornings would never exist and her afternoons were always spent by the table, hearing that she isn’t good enough to do anything her mindset herself to.
She was stuck, in a black hole that was sucking the life out of her; she had nowhere to go. Usually growing up, she would always try to run away but now the only escape she had was music and her bedroom. She now calls it the ever so loving covid curse, that may only leave with a miracle, maybe on judgment day.
The struggling Journalist was charismatic, charming and a hopeless romantic. Alas, that may be the reason why the black hole existed in the first place.
However before I get to that, I would like to ask you reader’s one question.
Do you think love is a needed factor while growing up? If so, what may happen, when there’s no love in a household.
The struggling journalist is the answer to this question. Her entire life, she wanted to find love, she began writing because of ‘love’ and now she’s an aspiring journalist because of it.
However, once the pandemic hit, the light inside her started to fade. Inspiration didn’t come to her as it used to.
The person who loved to write struggled to type anything at all. She started to disappear like smoke vanishing in the air and what’s worse; there was no one to help her or to stop it.
A family that didn’t know how to show love, toxic friendships and unrequited love. The struggling journalist started to fall. She stopped taking care of herself. She started gaining weight, she resorted to unspeakable things, just to feel a fraction of love, that she’s never gotten. In the end, she felt like a beggar on a street, knocking on every door and instead of asking for money, all she asked for, was to feel wanted.
Yet no one ever budged, her friends made fun of her. The family she lived in, resented her and the man she loved, never loved her back. She finally lost the spark in her eyes and the hope that resided in her heart. She felt worthless. The whole world was in motion yet she was frozen. It came to a point where she could not even cry anymore, the tears refused to fall claiming they were tired since no one would help.
Love is a necessity in life, if you do not receive love, happiness would be a goal unattainable. Since affection is what we are designed to crave, however, it is you who decide, when you’ll receive it.
With that being said, leave us a like and stay tuned. There’s more left to the story, you never know, maybe she’ll finally be happy.