Always Bold. Forever Broken: on emptiness and solitude

“We cuddle at night.”

“Commas not fulls stops..”

“May the emptiness fill you..”

These sentences touched my soul.

May you always be full Sana.You have a beautiful writing style and a beautiful soul.

somebodywrites

GloucesterStation

Today marks exactly a year since I returned to Zambia from studying in the UK.

One year on and this is still me. Staring at the emptiness before me, in the town that saw many goodbyes and tears and uncertainties and suitcases and £8 return tickets.

I have developed a relationship with emptiness. It started with wanting to drown it away by filling it up to the brim, inviting others to peer into it without letting them know just how hollow it was here. With hopeless conversations with temporary boys (spawns of satan discovered amidst days that now feel like dreams in Caerleon), with nights of straightened hair and flashing lights and spilled drinks (ending with teary chats with strangers in the bathroom at Missoula), with voice notes and calls and texts and emails: calling out and reaching out and giving and asking and never wanting anything in return. Only…

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