Making Differences

 It’s 3 am with moonlight streaming through the window and you are lying on your bed, all alone in the room, wide awake. That’s when you start analysing the hell out of everything.

You are beyond trying to fall asleep by now and starring at the walls of the dim lit room, a memory crawls up your skin. You try to shove it down but it has got a grip on you like a monster out of a dark night. And one by one myriad thoughts start crushing you. A lost forsaken childhood memory, decisions taken which are far too late to regret on, things done wrong to you and the ones’ you did to others.

As each thought makes your heart constrict, you become vulnerable with a soul so bared. Your throat longs for quenching a thirst of relief. But you see no window, no escape. …it’s 3 am and you don’t trust yourself with your thoughts anymore, you’re not sure where they might lead you.

You take up your phone and start talking to anyone you know who will listen to you even at this hour. Talking to her, you gradually start to lose yourself, because the outburst would pertain to your desperate need to escape from the hallows of your sunken thoughts.

You feel it coming from the pit of your stomach, you know it's starting to form inside, maybe it's coming from the special brownie you ate yesterday night or that beetroot juice that was more just roots. But you can feel it, deep down, it's coming, it's coming. You feel uneasy, you rush to a place, grab anything that's within your reach & wait for the outpouring to start.

Unknowingly you start to speak your demons out. Even those which were never meant for revelations. You confess to her all your wrongdoings, your naivety, the clichés, insecurities, a lost happy moment and yes, your regret. You go back to the depths that haunt you. Thoughts that chill your spine and memories of those experiences that ruins a flashback.

The roots, rice, rainbows, ladyfingers, unicorns, it's all coming out, one by one. Oh, you cannot keep it inside you anymore. You put a finger inside your throat. A gurgle escapes you. You throw up a word or two. Then another. Maybe a sentence.

Maybe a poem but without a rhyme.
Maybe a story, without any twists.
Maybe a piece like this, but without any sourness.

And then, you sigh. A sigh of relief. You spit out every word of err in you and You hear the chains snapping off at the back of your mind. After you bare your heart out, you fall into a comfortable silence with your listener. A while later unwilling voices wish each other good night. Lying back, in retrospection you figure the reason behind you opening up to her. She never once judged you.

And when you are done, even if it is a smelly, incomprehensible mess. Deep down you know, this 3 am weak moment of yours has made a huge difference tonight, because tonight you’ll go to bed feeling a lot lighter than before and today, you’ll sleep naked without your secrets.