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If Only You KnewLoading...
Paolo Fabri
One week ago, my rehabilitation process restarted. I was clean for two-and-a-half months, but everything changed two weeks ago when I decided to throw myself back into dating.
After rehab, I felt pretty mediocre about myself. To make myself feel better about having finally conquered drug abuse, I decided to download a dating app. I matched with a girl named Sophia, and she seemed perfect. Her favourite dish was her mother’s homemade pepperoni pizza, her favourite song was Edith Piaf’s “La Vie en Rose,” and her favourite travel destination was Switzerland.
After our date, I walked her back to her place and we said our goodbyes. She gave me a peck on the cheek, but it didn’t make me feel anything. I wasn’t happy, excited, or sad. All I felt was the cold autumn breeze gently brushing my face.
On the walk back to my apartment, I kept asking myself why I couldn’t allow myself to feel happy. I stopped at the red light right in front of my apartment. It turned green, but I stayed frozen, trying to figure out what my issue was. It could have been the fact that I felt pressured by society to love the first woman I saw, to marry her, to give her a fairytale life. I knew I couldn’t though, I had just left rehab after all. There was no way I could give anyone an amazing life. In fact, there was no purpose in me being a functioning member of society because society doesn’t need someone who can’t even cross the street.
“If only I had told her my story. If only I had taken a leap of faith and decided to tell her what was wrong with me. After all, people change people,” I thought to myself. After realizing this, I turned around and ran. By the time I arrived at my destination, I was breathing heavier than mother nature, who was starting to concoct a storm. I entered the convenience store and talked to the guy who owned it. He gave me everything I desperately needed. I ran back home, took out the bags he gave me, and that’s when it happened.
Life finally felt good again.
After rehab, I felt pretty mediocre about myself. To make myself feel better about having finally conquered drug abuse, I decided to download a dating app. I matched with a girl named Sophia, and she seemed perfect. Her favourite dish was her mother’s homemade pepperoni pizza, her favourite song was Edith Piaf’s “La Vie en Rose,” and her favourite travel destination was Switzerland.
After our date, I walked her back to her place and we said our goodbyes. She gave me a peck on the cheek, but it didn’t make me feel anything. I wasn’t happy, excited, or sad. All I felt was the cold autumn breeze gently brushing my face.
On the walk back to my apartment, I kept asking myself why I couldn’t allow myself to feel happy. I stopped at the red light right in front of my apartment. It turned green, but I stayed frozen, trying to figure out what my issue was. It could have been the fact that I felt pressured by society to love the first woman I saw, to marry her, to give her a fairytale life. I knew I couldn’t though, I had just left rehab after all. There was no way I could give anyone an amazing life. In fact, there was no purpose in me being a functioning member of society because society doesn’t need someone who can’t even cross the street.
“If only I had told her my story. If only I had taken a leap of faith and decided to tell her what was wrong with me. After all, people change people,” I thought to myself. After realizing this, I turned around and ran. By the time I arrived at my destination, I was breathing heavier than mother nature, who was starting to concoct a storm. I entered the convenience store and talked to the guy who owned it. He gave me everything I desperately needed. I ran back home, took out the bags he gave me, and that’s when it happened.
Life finally felt good again.
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