I once had a friend about whom I always knew one thing - she was a good weather friend. I knew that she would be repulsed by or annoyed with negativity and hence would steer herself clear of it whenever she encountered such situations. While I did not take a moralistic position on it, I was always uncomfortable with it; because for me relationships were meant to be helpful. However, I've recently found myself being pushed down a path that will result me being somewhat like her. I prefer to call it a 'violent end'.

Let us first put this in context. As much as I like to be around people, I am perfectly capable of staying away from them too. The last year of my schooling, which I spent in complete isolation, did two things to me - it made me value friends and relationships; and it made me realise how much tolerance I have for solitude. In fact, I can trace back so many of my most essential traits to that year - the compassion, the latent violence, the fears and insecurities.

Over the past couple of months, I've felt trapped. I've felt that decisions in my life were not being made by me; or even if I was the one making them, I didn't have a free hand in doing so. I have been yearning for freedom. I have been dragged into unpleasant situations (and often due to my own lack of foresight), then asked to leave those situations at a time when I was unable to. I saw my self-image being battered incessantly; and it took a toll on how I was feeling. I have been habituated to put up a facade to hide what I truly feel, but then this is something that the friend I earlier talked about also did. I do not want to become like her.

If (and it increasingly seems to be a question of when, not if) I do reach that point of breaking off, I would be extremely disappointed. I believe that we shouldn't let bitter memories or bitter experiences make us bitter individuals. It must not reduce our zest for life - both for the bad and good days. My condition right now feels like a person who has been under slow poisoning for a long time. I have become intrinsically bitter about my condition, so much so that I have accepted it and stopped feeling strongly about it. But now, the more I am put through this hell, the more strongly I feel about my own righteousness. I think I've moved beyond the stage of reason and logic; now there is a strong voice that says so.

Human life is obviously not as predictable that sitting today, I could say that this would happen, and then that would happen. I really don't know, and here I've outlined one of those possibilities that to me looks very likely, and yet depressing.