is this me?

i want to scream, i want to shout. open my hair, swing it in a frenzy. my head throbs. god, how sick i am of this throbbing. constant, for days. it doesn't go. why don't you go? leave me alone. alone! that's what i want to be now.

invariably i drift nostalgically into my past, long for the little niceties. playing music i like and sipping tea in the morning. quietly. silence. that's what i am longing for now. the sound of his piano fills my head. i seem to like it. sing out loud. that's what i want to do now. shout out the half known lyrics of songs i love.

i want to live like i want to. my mother was right. why are they always right? i didn't know what i was getting into. atleast not completely. its baggage. and i repeatedly feel incapable of carrying it. my head aches. it throbs. go away. please go away.

my pots and pans. i miss them. the matchbox kitchen. i miss it too.

the fatality of marriage always scared me? why didn't it scare me this time? was i too convinced, or was i numb? i don't know. i have left the people who are my parents, my life and am here. why? for what? is it worth it?

home is what i miss, what i long for. i shall have it some day.

you're with me i know. you're keeping me with you i know. and you won't leave me. of this i am sure.