Lately my life has been falling apart step by step. Almost in a systematic way. Getting rejected is one thing. But not even getting a response hurts on a whole new level.
Because rejection leaves you no space to develop a hope of any sort. The prospect of getting a positive reply and then never hearing from them. Well that just lets your imagination do the work and most of the time the over thinking mind does something that exceeds expectations.
I have stopped going alone to most places I had no problem going to in the past. Eating alone, enjoying a meal all by yourself in a crowded restaurant was something I was good at. But i lost that talent. I prefer to get the food delivered at my place. And I eat there. I wait until I reach home.
Home is a place i have created for myself in the past few months. It is flawed as hell. But it is home now. It is the only place where I could be just myself. It is the only place where I allow myself to cry these days. It has become my Sanctuary. That place is something I am proud of. Because in a society where moving out is an alien concept, I managed to do it. And this apartment lets me be free. But all within those four walls. It provides me the secure feel I am looking for that I don’t need a hijab to do it for me. It allows me to eat my favorite food and not be stared at. It lets me sing in the most horrendous voice I could come up with and does not laugh at it. It is a house for many. But it has become my home. My little sanctuary!