Aswani

Soulmates

I wonder how it feels to feel good enough in your own skin I wonder how it feels to be loved – by me I wonder how you feel when I look at you with my tired eyes I wonder how my mother felt when she gave birth to me

I wonder how I will feel when I give birth to my own dear children I wonder if they will ever know I loved them even before their existence I wonder how the world would look if the sky was not blue I wonder how birds fly thousands of miles every year knowing exactly where to go So I wonder why I still get lost just at the grocery store

I wonder if my grandmother is looking over me I wonder if she knows that I’m sorry I wonder if you know how much I think about you I wonder what it’s like to have the courage to just not give a fuck

I wonder what you meant when you told me you had changed your mind I wonder if you ever changed your mind back I wonder if any amount of closure would reverse my insecurities I wonder if any amount of sleep would help me catch up on the years of built up insomnia

I wonder what happens when soul mates fall out of love

Depression

I told my mom I was sad and she asked me what for She waited four minutes while I ran my inner monologue That refused to transfer into physical movements of my tongue

There are no sound waves to describe the reasons I don’t want to open my eyes in the morning Or explain why breathing feels like a chore because honestly? I don’t know I mean I’ve been breathing the minute I came out of my mother’s womb No one had to teach me how to do that So why is it now that sometimes I forget how?

She told me my hair looks like I haven’t showered in weeks I told her I don’t think I have And she laughed, as if I was joking And I laughed too – just to hide the fact that I was actually genuinely telling the truth

“Of course you’re not happy, your room is a mess” Or maybe I’m not happy because my life is a mess But don’t ask me how because I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started

Depression showed up one day at my doorsteps uninvited She did not introduce herself to me or tell me her favourite colour I don’t know why she liked to hang around but Depression fell in love with me And I was too polite to say I didn’t feel the same way so I just let her stay

I made sure she was comfortable in my home as you would for any guest I let her sleep in my bed, under my covers Where she convinced me to stay another hour Then she convinced me it was too late to start my day now anyways

I tried to take her out to parties but she always asked to leave early I stopped accepting invitations At first, out of obligation to Depression, but now out of habit

Depression grew on me – we have a very intimate relationship She lets me cry on her shoulders, no questions asked Wraps her arms around me, the best blanket I know She keeps me safe, reminds me she won’t walk out on me like my father And unlike my mother, understands my frustrations even when I can’t string them into coherent sentences

She’s consistent unlike my childhood homes – or the spaces I occupied until we moved to the next She does not make empty promises or have unrealistic expectations for me to live up to She doesn’t make me do things I don’t want to – like get out of bed Or attend family functions Or eat breakfast, or lunch, or dinner

My doctor suggested medication So I stopped going for check-ups She told me I have Depression I said thank god because I don’t know who I am without her

I don’t know as in I forgot Depression - the gas light that sparked the fire that burned my whole house down The house, a metaphor for my body My body, not my own to reclaim Gas lighting, depression.