By Bhavita Varma
I sometimes miss my anxiety, when I take in a sharp breath expecting to feel that sharp stab of painful butterflies, and feel nothing but emptiness. Am I just numb? More depressed? Or did some of the therapy actually work? These are the questions I don't really want to know the answers of, at least not right now, not for a while. Right now I'm busy missing that feeling, that feeling that I've been feeling ever since I could feel, I miss the dread, the quickened heartbeat.
The sweating, and the heavy breathing; which are all ironically also symptoms of being in love. Perhaps the malady of love had befallen me as well, somewhere along the line, after spending all those days with my anxiety and I. And now I miss that feeling, of feeling drenched in a downpour of my own worst thoughts. After years and years of worst case scenarios, and overthinking at the speed of a hummingbird's wings, am I all alone in my head now? Although, everyone always says that, our hearts can never completely wipe away the traces of our old friends and lovers. I know it might be sad, but I'm a little glad, for as melancholic as it sounds, when the fear sometimes comes back around, on random days, in obsessive thoughts and anxious spirals, I embrace it like an old friend and lover, hoping that we'll see each other soon again.
By Bhavita Varma
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