My Diagnosis Is Simple, I Am Lost

As Julio Cortazar once wrote: “My diagnosis is simple, I am lost.”

Surely you too are lost because you feel deep and sometimes cry without knowing why. Maybe we are both fascinated by people who spread emotions with their energy.

Surely you also like people who vibrate, and it is likely that you like to work so that your reality is even better than your dreams.

We are lost because we sometimes get angry for no reason and the world collapses when things do not go the way we want. There is no hope for us because we can not count to ten, as experts tell us, before we explode.

I’m lost (and so are you) because I’m not capable of eating five meals a day, sleeping eight hours a night, or thinking about myself before I think of anyone else. I’m constantly waiting for “that person” to spend time with me.

I’m lost because I really believe that the things that are not easy to get over are the ones that are most worthwhile, and I know I need to gather courage to keep moving forward.

I want to wear a smile in the mornings, but I know it is not always necessary ; I know that sadness is also good for me and that when my body wants to cry I should shut it down or disconnect for a while.

I do not like when people tell me what to do, how to be, when to be sad or how I should feel.

I’m hopeless because I like listening to other people’s little battles, examining their faces and evaluating their expressions. I’m lost because I can not stand people lying to me, but I understand that sometimes they do.

I’m lost because I do not like black or white! Because I rather float to gray, pink, blue and yellow. I have no favorite color, because everyone says something exciting to me.

I’m lost because I know I can get excited about remembering my first love, and I’m sure it does not make me incapable of loving the person who is currently in my life with incredible madness.

I am lost because in my life I have PEOPLE and people. In uppercase and lowercase letters. Because yes, I’m sure there is a hierarchy of love or at least there is a certain kind of love for every person in the world.

I am lost because I sometimes criticize and am incoherent. I’m hopeless because I think love is worth it in this rushing world, because I know there are winds and that I can lose my north over something ridiculous.

I’m also afraid to admit that I’m terrified of a broken heart. That I am sometimes afraid of loneliness and that I shed tears when I think that one day I may lose someone.

I am hopeless when my quirks say everything about me, when I fall in love with the genuine, the childish or the unexpected. They say I should not, that ” I’m too old …”

And I answer that I am not too old for anything, that I have simply accumulated youth and that I will live my life as I want until it ends.

Because I know that old age is a kind of “spirit”, not a stage in life. Getting older is inevitable, but I have decided that I am hopeless and that I should shine for as long as I can.

Although I should know that it is not easy to be lost, especially because it is sometimes painful to treasure memories highly, it is complicated to justify that I have spent whole months of the calendar doing the same thing every day and feeling similar things.

Seeing the time time pass on my phone, setting 20 alarms, sending the same messages and making promises to myself that will never come true…

Then I tell myself that I will be ready to change everything next week, but when I really think about it, I realize that these 20 alarms and the same messages are not what defines me or writes my story.

I write my own story, with my points, commas, exclamation marks and question marks. We all have thousands of stories and hundreds of scars. That is what makes us authentic and special – that we are lost privately while we are ourselves, with so much and so little in common.