Hannah once asked me, in that cold emotionless tone of hers, "how many times do you need to be disappointed in life before you just feel numb and stop having feelings?" It was easier to answer back then because I was the happier of us two. The answer was six.
I'm way over pass 26 disappointments this past two years and I still can't have that numbness she had. I was about to feel jealous, but considering that she's a year older and dead, I.. oh heck I am jealous of that fact.
And once, when I was listening to her favorite, Comfortably Numb, she said, "I don't get why people start over. You just have one life, you don't start over, you just go and fucking move on." I didn't know what to say at that time, I just shrugged. Arguing with Hannah would often feel like arguing with a rock, I should know, but she did make a lot of sense.
The closest I got into having that numbness is when I start to clean. Having slobs as housemate helps. Ended up waking at 3am and cleaning the kitchen was somehow liberating. Just focusing on scrubbing every inch of the cooker, organising or rather reorganising every thing into order. Where should go where. How the plates should be stack. Having a spotless sink. I get all smiley and happy seeing everything in order. Annoyed the hell out of my housemates though.
Yeah I don't know why I'm writing this too. I'm not numb as I wish I was. And as we all know, what I wish would happen, certainly won't. There you go, a blast of pessimist for ya.