I considered myself to be fearless for quite a long period of my life. I dated to do anything and go anywhere.
It wasn't until I moved out of my parents' house that I realized something was amiss. I was flat-hunting and I needed somewhere where I could start from scratch. A blank canvas, to say so. I still remember the feeling of despair I had visiting the first empty flat I had ever seen. As soon as I crossed the door, the only thing I could think of was desolation. It was as if life had become a void, and nothing could fill it again. I sat on the floor, curled up in a ball and closed my eyes. When the realtor asked me if I was okay, I could only mutter "I can't do it". I ended up having my parents pick a flat for me, and fill it up with furniture and paintings I had chosen. I didn't enter until everything was set.
As you can see, it has gone to worst. I can't even stand the smallest empty space, so my house is cluttered. The fear is ruining my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment