In the desert of my solitude
In the desert of my solitude

The world seemed surreal and dark, it seemed as if the entire world was willing to cry, it seemed so less of emotions now. There are no more relationships; people just want sex and the excitement that comes after it. People are no longer admired.
It was the third day of the week and the world was sad. The leaves of the neem tree showering and dancing while whirling from the forgotten wind. The aroma of mud and flowers filled my room through the opened window. Her face buried beneath my chest as we both lay there admiring each other.

"That was fun" she exclaimed, “you want to go again?”

I lay still as if my body was paralyzed and looking at her without enthusiasm, I replied

 “Yeah sure”

And so we pushed on again, wrapping ourselves into each other’s embraces enjoying the pleasures we received and graving the moment we had.
It was maybe in the noon when it had stopped raining but the clouds still roamed the sky claiming it was their territory. The wind was hustling in from the window, her sweat dipping on my chest she came closer to my face. 

"I love you" she smiled

"I love you", what was the meaning of it? How can we even explain love, Is it just the romantic attraction we feel towards someone that we lust for or is it the lustful feeling towards someone that we have romantic feelings for.

“Don’t get too carried away”

She was a woman beyond imagination, her blue eyes when she looked at me with pure lust; it filled me with dread and made me hate myself even more.
She fixed herself with a cigarette, inhaling the toxic substances she said,

‘I have to go now he will be waiting for me”

"I wish i could kill myself"

"On a day like this? come on!"

"I really wish"

It was maybe half past 2 when she left, fixing her hair and kissing me goodbye. She had a waited husband at home to go too and i had a wife that loved me and caressed me. Who cared for my wellbeing, but I didn’t feel anything for her, I never had anything for her. Whatever happened between us was so quick it was as if she always secretly admired me.
It was in the middle of the autumn when the leaves rustled in the distance sidewalks and the distant sounds of children filled the air. We crashed into each other like a old cliché romantic drama, I helped her pick her belongings and we exchanged names. Even though I my head was still filled with the past memories of my lover, I still found ways to cope with her. The day before meeting her i remember i had a dream about finding myself in a desert. The moonlight illuminated the entire side of the desert roaming far and wide. The blissful solitude of the entire ambience was peaceful to me. I focused on a light in the distance as i walked closer to it, it grew larger and larger until it fully consumed me and i woke up with a cold sweat.  Mesmerized by that mere perfect sanity of the light that still illuminated my room.

I fixed a chair in the middle of the broken room, tying a noose around my neck, i looked in the mirror one last time, I thought this was it finally, I was going to feel something, I won’t be emotionally numb anymore. I kicked the chair and faded away.

I had a dream, in this dream I murdered my wife for love but it was alright, the world seemed surreal and dark. The sound of my own heart beating filled me with a ringing horror. I felt alive knowing I had murdered the woman that adored me but it was alright, I felt something latching unto me and peeling off my skin. It was her again, looking at me with her gloomy and surreal eyes.

"You're very lucky to have a wife like her"

I woke to a deep voice that grimed my ears.


"If it wasn't for her you would be dead by now"

I see my wife in the corner of the white bed  looking at me. She was wearing her blue skirt that i bought for her on her 18th birthday. Her hair was messed up and she had tears falling which made her look beautiful as the blooming of flowers.

"How long was i out?"

"You don't have to worry about that just be thankful we got to you before death could"

I wish that would've happened.

The nurse came and the doctor excused us for an emergency in the next room over.
My eyes fixed on my wife as she looked at me with her gloomy eyes.

"Honey, why would you do that?"

Oh god her voice, whenever she spoke it was like the sound of a hundred angels singing from above. Her beauty mark from above her lips was appearing darker as it shinned from her streamed tear. 

"I don't know"

"You said you were staying at home
because you were sick"

"You look beautiful today"

"Why would you do something like this?"

She was crying now, even when she was crying it looked like she was hoarding the sound of 10 violins joined together to make a perfect song.
Without thinking twice i kissed her, grabbing her hand tightly i kissed her again not letting go of her.

"I love you" i said to her with a shaking voice, she smiled back at me repeating the same words again.

Did i love her? What was it that made me feel like this? Why was i being so succumbed by the feeling of guilt, Why was i torturing myself, We all have questions that remain unanswered even when we have explanations for them. The question that troubled me the most why didn't i feel anything anymore?  I stopped having feelings a long time ago, longer than i have words to remember. All i remember is that one day i woke up and stopped feeling. I started putting on this fake persona of being the person that people wanted.

"Please don't do anything stupid like that again or i won't be able to live with myself"

"You look so pretty when you cry"

I snorted out my last words and drifted off to a slumber.

I had a dream, in this dream i murdered my wife for my lover but it was alright. This feeling of guilt and sadness that accumulated me was overwhelming. I was growing to like it. It was as if something was finally going right.

When i woke up i saw her reading her reading the great Gatsby. That was the only book she would read again and again without taking a rest of it. The moment those pages turn black she'll just start right again. I still remember the first time i read that book. I absolutely adored it. She only got into reading because she found out i had a craze for reading. I used to pity all the characters in that story instead of nick caraway but growing up i realized i was starting to grow more like Tom Buchanan, even though he only cheated on his wife because he wanted to run away from his responsibilities as a husband, I was cheating due to the lack of emotions and romantic attraction. I was cheating on my wife so I could feel guilt, if only I could develop any type of emotion.
Due to my wife's heroic efforts I was saved and was given an early leave. My wife struck me to the bed and watched after me for a couple of days. I was advised   to get psychiatric help because it was of no use anyways. I had tried getting help as a teen. I was once scared that i was becoming a psychopath, i was emotionally numb.. I forced myself to get up and raid out the outside world. Somehow the sad old days came pouring back to me. The early morning shine just wasn't feeling the same way it did when i was a child. How the blooming effected and glistened the flowers and the laughter of kids playing in the distant gardens. Maybe it was because a whole decade had passed, And as i lived, sadness accumulated me, It overwhelmed me as if it was a parasite slowly latching unto me to eat me whole. My ears were whistling, and my dreams were showing the same old sadness that lurked within every corner of it. It was as if my soul was telling me to just end it, that i was causing enough pain to people already. Retrospective of this i tried to control my emotions. It was finally time to put an end to this seemingly bizarre era of emotions.
Do you love someone so much that you genuinely can't tell them because it’s wrong to do so?
I still felt for her to this day. Our long distances couldn't conquer for us. I couldn't live a day without her. Maybe i was wrong for marrying the wrong person. Maybe i was wrong to toy with someone’s emotions. I don’t love her at all i don’t have anything for her. I still feel the emotionless numbness within me.
It was another rainy day today; the leaves of the name tree were showering with glistening booms. It was my birthday today. She surprised me with a birthday cake and kissed me.
"Happy birthday sweetheart! I love you"

I was wished by several family members that filled my head with their fake smiles. I couldn't get her out of my head. Maybe if we were awarded with such few minute or seconds we could've lived a lifetime together. Nothing between us but the sweet embrace of each other. It is the fifth day of the final coming week, the world was still sad when i had finally decided to commit sucide. It is still the fifth sad day of the week when i finally decided to murder my wife but it was alright. 

© Zeeshan Ali Ali,
книга «In the desert of my solitude».