Emptiness. Sudden And Not Meaningless

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Video: Emptiness. Sudden And Not Meaningless

Video: Emptiness. Sudden And Not Meaningless
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Emptiness. Sudden And Not Meaningless
Emptiness. Sudden And Not Meaningless
Anonim

At first it seems to you that nothing like this is happening. Work, meeting friends, cleaning the house on Saturdays and horseback riding on Sundays. And then all of a sudden, like a gust of cold wind in a hot summer, you understand: something is going wrong

You sit down at the piano to play Debussy's favorite Suite Bergamasque and get lost on every second note. You pour water into a beautiful glass, take your favorite brushes, take out watercolors - and you cannot paint such favorite irises. You go to the studio, put on a leotard, warm up all your muscles, turn on the music and you can't think of a single movement for the upcoming competition. Because inside you suddenly and unexpectedly - empty.

No, nothing awful has happened to you in the past how many? Five years? Eight? Three years? Nobody died. You were not attacked in a dark alley with a knife and did not threaten your life. Nothing happened that could "justify" this state and outwardly everything is still normal. But inside you - a gaping, black to shivering and numbness in the throat emptiness. She looks from there, from the very depths of her soul, and waits for something. And what - you do not know. Or rather, while you're afraid to find out.

There, in the dark void, there may be the pain of loss. For example, your beloved dad. You will say: yes, nonsense, he has been gone for five years and three and a half months, I have long been accustomed to his absence. But you still do not admit to yourself that neither then, nor now, you did not mourn his sudden departure. You didn't have time to prepare your goodbyes - he just had an accident. And then you had to stay strong and support your mom and younger brother, who were experiencing his loss "stronger" than you. And you still could not afford the thought that his death meant something to you too.

There, in a terribly quiet and viscous emptiness, the illusion of a happy marriage lives. And the hope is that this illusion can still be contained. There are fantasies about a happy family in which children run up to you on a beautiful green lawn near a huge house that you built yourself. You toss them up to the sky, they laugh out loud. You teach the eldest to fish, you pamper the youngest and play the role of a prince. Or a horse, that's how the little princess will order) And none of this fantasy is reality, because you cannot find a common language with your wife, because you are always not good enough for her and for this illusion for two.

No, you don't want to die and there are no suicidal thoughts. Deep down, you desperately love life and want to return to your usual cheerful state, in which you read books, go to another country and arrange surprises for your friends. But all you want lately is nothing. And emptiness remains the main background of everything you do.

She always sneaks up silently. Like a fluffy cat following you through the apartment in a quiet shadow. Then this fluffy monster, just as quietly in a fit of love, lies as close to you as possible and you wake up in the middle of the night from the fact that under a layer of wool and fat you cannot breathe.

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