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  • Mithila Malaviya

I am having a hard time coming back home.

Actually, I was having a hard time when I was away from home too. I have traveled for so long that I don’t think I have a place to call home anymore. Yeah, I have my partner, and sometimes not a place, but people are home, but he isn’t home, in the nicest way possible. Nor are my parents. I love them all, even my friends. I would take a bullet for them all, but they aren’t home. I never relied on anyone to be my happiness, and being my home seems like making them my happiness. Seems fucked up to me, tbh.

None of the songs anymore are about finding my loved one. I lucked out in that department,

I think? You know, I doubt it every time I say it, but every time I see his face, his smile, his

eyes — it is so clear. I amhead over heels for him. Anyway, all these so-called “love songs” where one is singing to the other, I don’t hear them as love ballads; I hear them as me talking to myself — calling myself out — trying to love myself again. But I never stopped loving myself, so what the fuck am I singing? Please someone somewhere make sense of this.

Take Talking To The Moon by Bruno Mars, for example —

“I know you’re somewhere out there, somewhere far away.
I want you back x2
You’re all I had.
I sit by myself, talking to the moon. Trying to get to you.
Am I a fool who sits alone talking to the moon?”

How am I singing this to myself? But, I really am. In my mind, it all makes sense. I am telling myself that I am still somewhere out there. I don’t know where but somewhere still inside me. Did I grow up and am finding my younger self? I just want to feel that way again. The way I felt in Pune, in Paris, in Mumbai. Why can’t I feel that way? It was comfortable. What the fuck is this right now? I really only had myself. Yeah, my partner is great, but no one is perfect, so he comes with his own troubles that suck and butt heads with mine real bad. Those days I feel alone again and not strong enough to help myself. I talk to myself so much. I love it. It is just the most comfortable conversation in the world. But even when I talk to myself, I try to please myself — how fucked up is that! Ha! I also do love talking to the moon. There is just something so comforting about talking to it. I sometimes relate the moon to my grandparents, sometimes to a loved one I haven’t spoken to in a while, and sometimes it’s Kim Seokjin. It changes a lot. Sometimes, the times I am feeling very romantic, it is just that — an unattainable object somewhere out in space that will never be tired of hearing me and will hold all my secrets minus the judgement. So I guess I am the fool who sits there alone, talking to the moon.

Recently, AntiHero by Taylor Swift is describing me. But it was a self-descriptive song, to begin with. It is really relatable.

“I can stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.”

I don’t like, know or want to see what is in the mirror.

“Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism?”

Ugh, how on point is this about me?

“When my depression works the graveyard shift, all of the people I have ghosted stand there in the room…”

I am really sorry about all the ghosting. I only ghost when I am absolutely overwhelmed and can’t handle a conversation. Then I feel bad about not replying right away. Then I just stare at unopened conversations with anxiety and guilt until they are replaced with newer conversations, eventually forgetting them. I am so sorry to all the people I have done this to. I have gotten better and will continue not to do this.

Until the next song and sad day combination.


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