i was an oxymoron to my ‘oxygen’

Quite recently I found my ‘oxygen’.
Initially, I’ll seek ‘oxygen’ occasionally.

The frequency I realized hiked when I am feeling the blues: Down. Stressed-out, PMS swings. Lonely. Yes, ‘oxygen’ was a relieve for most of Thursdays, Fridays and the weekends for me.

Gradually, I became hooked. I’ll race down the highways as soon as I was released from the hellish city traffic to get home. Even before I took off my suit, I’ll hook the modem on, then grab a glass of water from the kitchen, put on the water heater … and settle into the chair to get a quick whiff of ‘oxygen’ before I took a shower. Always a shower since I met ‘oxygen’. See, a shower took me away from ‘oxygen’ for shorter periods compared to a bath, which ‘oxygen’ has somehow convinced me (without any words or action) that it’s sinful to have baths.

One fine evening I discovered that ‘oxygen’ wasn’t there. I panicked. My mood spiraled downwards instantly. Even double doses of EPO didn’t help lift my foul mood. For days, I’ll mop around the house in the evenings. Snapped at even my beloved dog, who seemed to be the only thing breathing that understood me.

Then, I decided that the torture was enough. I made the decision to tackle the issue head-on. I confronted ‘oxygen’. It turned out pleasant. I got my ‘oxygen’ back just like that. Life was on track. I was complete again.

Like I’ve mentioned in the past, good things don’t last.

Shortly after being united with my ‘oxygen’, I faced the threat of ‘oxygen’ being forcefully taken away from me. And it was unclear if ‘oxygen’ was in control. I, naturally, reacted badly. Having received bad news not so recently, having my ‘nitrogen’ taken away for 2 months (thereabouts I met ‘oxygen’) only to be replaced by pathetic ‘helium’, I can’t standby and allow myself to be deprived. Sure, ‘nitrogen’ was coming back into my life, and ‘helium’ entertained my occasional flights of fancy, but having experience ‘oxygen’ … I could not. I would not. Allow ‘oxygen’ to be taken away from me.

I fought. Like never before. It reactivated my once fiery self righteous, activist side which has long been dormant. The only difference is, with maturity, my ‘fights’ and ‘campaigns’ had finesse. Of which I am proud of. But sleep remained secondary. Food was unimportant. Every spare waking moment left which I had energy, I spent ‘fighting’ to keep my ‘oxygen’. Sure. ‘oxygen’ would have ‘fought’ too. Independently. Void of each other’s knowledge.

But I wore out quick. And for reasons unknown to me (as I had and have no expectations) I decided to let ‘oxygen’ into my world. To let ‘oxygen’ know I was ‘fighting’ to keep him. Though at the back of my mind I thought ‘oxygen’ might just think I was another lunatic or a stalker, I took the risk and let ‘oxygen’ into my life. I guess I must have thought that it wasn’t going to make any major difference at that particular juncture as I was close to losing my ‘oxygen’ anyways. Or maybe I wasn’t thinking, just reacting. Which is typical of me.

Little did I know, ‘oxygen’ permeated my air even more. Infusing more ‘oxygen’ to the point of me being deliriously intoxicated. I felt that the air had too much pure ‘oxygen’. It was killing me. I was beginning to get addicted to ‘oxygen’. And I tried to put my point through to ‘oxygen’ today and I did a very bad job at it.

So, so much for ‘fighting’ for ‘oxygen’ for keeps, I may have driven ‘oxygen’ away by my own doing today.

I was afraid. I truly liked ‘oxygen’ and enjoyed the company and intellectual simulations. I felt comfortable with ‘oxygen’. Too comfortable. It was too good. See, ‘oxygen’ could finish my sentences / thoughts. His words echoes in my head as if they were my very own thoughts. His viewpoints. Feelings. Principles. Values. They were a very close mirror to mine.

But of course ‘oxygen’ knew more. Experienced more. He’s just simply more in every sense. Which isn’t difficult to be as I am clueless and naive in many sense.
But, I wasn’t intimidated by the more-ness. I wasn’t competitive. I was intimidated by the same-ness. I felt vulnerable. Naked. ‘oxygen’ read me like an open book. And so I panicked and said the silliest, most self centred and shallow thing a person can say to another who just suffered the fires of hell:
I don’t think we should be friends!!!

I don’t think I’m making much sense now either or putting my point across succinctly, but I didn’t want to be left standing there alone when I am totally dependent on ‘oxygen’. Sad but true, this possibility is very real, even if it was not intended by either one of us. Both ‘oxygen’ and I acknowledges this possibility daily. We joke about it. Openly and together we celebrate every single day we survived and welcome the other to a new dawn. And so, I was scarred. I was selfish. I didn’t want to be hurt (if I was the last one standing and not him). So, I reacted. I was an oxymoron.
* * * * * * * *

You guessed right, ‘oxygen’ did say my zodiac sign has the tendency to be self centred. shallow. I am positive narcissism falls in there too, but he was too wise to point it out.


4 thoughts on “i was an oxymoron to my ‘oxygen’

  1. hey!!!!i am lost!!!! {disbelief}are you keeping a SECRET from me?!?fill me in. pronto. stat.who’s the guy?cute?rich?boring? can’t be from your reaction.QUICK!!!! i can’t believe you didn’t say a word over sugary doughnuts.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s