Because I’d Rather Be Empty than Hopeless (003/365)

I can’t find my N8.

The Boyfriend’s been trying to call it for the last half hour, but no one’s been picking up.  He’s sent SMS messages saying to answer the call.  The Boyfriend says as long as the phone’s still ringing, there’s still hope of getting it back.

I know better.  It’s gone.  My heart is broken.

It’s not like it’s the first phone I’ve lost (or, to be more specific, stolen), but today, I just couldn’t take it.  I sent a tweet out saying, “There are days when all you want to do is crawl into a cave, curl up and die.  Today is one of those days.  It’s a sick, sad world, people.”  And it’s true.  That is exactly how I’m feeling right now – I want to bury myself underneath the blanket and never, ever wake up.  I don’t know what it is about losing the N8, but I’m in such a dark place right now, my heart actually hurts when I breathe.

I think I just want to understand why things like this keeps happening to me – the loss, the utter carelessness of losing another extremely expensive phone, the unbelievable stupidity of never learning.  Why?  Why does it have to happen to me?  I don’t understand.

A part of me wants to start pointing fingers and start blaming the world, but I can’t.  I’ve talked too much about choice to not know that at the end of it all, the buck stops with me.  I might not have wanted this to happen, but I have this gigantic mirror in front of me and I keep asking myself what I could have done to avoid this.  A part of my wants to blame The Boyfriend.  I had my phone in my hands, in the lift.  I know because I sent an SMS saying I was leaving the condo.  Then I saw my kit and knew that my cards weren’t there – there was no point in going out without my cards because I didn’t have enough cash to buy the cord I needed for my laptop.  I called The Boyfriend to ask if he had returned my card case in my bag, knowing full well that he didn’t.  He never does… and he never gets how big a deal things like that are for me.  I hated going back up to the condo just to get my card case.  I hated wasting time because I always feel as if I am forever begging for just a little big more.  Then I got my card case, went back down, rode a trike then transferred to an fx.  After handing the driver Php20, I realized I couldn’t find my phone.  All evening I  was trying to convince myself I had left it at home, but when we got here and it wasn’t in our bed, I knew it was gone.  Pho20,000, thrown out the window.  And I’m the one who’s always preaching about saving money.

Boyfriend can’t understand why I’ve been crying non-stop for the past half hour.  To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I understand either.  I know it’s not just about the phone – I’ve never been the one who became attached to things – but this time it just hurt.  Because it keeps happening over and over again and I don’t understand why.

I can feel the rage creeping in.  I know because there are fleeting, split-second moments when I feel like throwing whatever is in my hands just to hear that satisfying sound of shattering.  I just want to know that there’s something else breaking asides from me.  But rage is out of the question.  So I turn to apathy because it’s the only way I can turn the rage off.  It’s the only way I know to calm myself down.  Apathy.  Emptiness.  Silence.  Peace.

The Boyfriend says everything will be alright.  I don’t believe him.  Not right now, anyway.  Something in me broke tonight, although I don’t know exactly what it is.

I lost a bit of my faith in humanity, I think.  Not that I was ever its biggest fan, but I never thought it to be hopeless before.  Now I do.  Maybe that’s just the darkness talking.  Or maybe I’m right and we’ll all be the death of ourselves.

Here’s to the obviously unrealistic wish that tomorrow never comes.



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