0057 Jakla Thoughts

June 18, 2026  ·  00:57

It is Thursday, June 18, 2026, and it is already 00:57.

I was just about to sleep, but the ache of remembrance arrived again, out of nowhere. I am doing fine — maybe even better than before — but some part of me still cares about that person. The same person who did not care enough. The same person who shattered me into pieces.

And yet, the memories still come back with a strange sweetness.

I still feel like I carry an unprecedented amount of love and care for them. I still feel like asking about the stomach pain they always had. I still feel like warming up water, filling the hot water bag, and placing it gently where it hurts. I still feel like doing everything for that same person — the person for whom, in the end, I was nothing.

It is cruel, how love does not leave the body as easily as people leave our lives.

I do not know how long this feeling will stay with me. I want it gone, and somehow, I do not want it gone either. Because this memory is the only thing left. The only proof that I was loved once. That something existed. That something good actually happened.

There was a time when somebody made me feel special. A time when somebody chose me over everything else. A time when the world did not feel so ordinary. But all of it faded away, almost like a dream.

Maybe it was a dream.

Maybe it was a nightmare.

Who knows?

Maybe these feelings are proof that human beings are more advanced than other animals. Or maybe they are proof that we simply carry heavier burdens. Do animals feel this too? Do they also feel loss in ways they cannot explain? Do they also become miserable over something they cannot bring back?

If I could speak the language of animals, that would be the first thing I would ask.

Who knows — maybe in another life, I will become one. If I do, I would want to be an eagle. I would fly high above everything, watching the world from a place where pain cannot reach me. I would travel without needing a reason. I would disappear into the sky and belong only to the wind.

But for now, I am still here.

Still human.

Still remembering.

Still carrying this feeling without knowing where to put it.