After that night…
I couldn't do it anymore.
I was exhausted.
Not physically.
Psychologically.
Honestly…
I started thinking about the worst things.
Because a person gets tired of running from something that keeps chasing him.
And if I'm being honest…
the thing that hurt me the most was guilt.
Because in faith…
this is a sin.
In every holy book I searched through…
the Qur'an.
The Bible.
Everywhere…
it said the same thing.
That thought haunted me.
I didn't want to live as a sinner.
And I didn't want to die that way either.
So I searched.
Read.
Researched for hours.
Trying to find some answer that would calm me down.
But instead…
everything only destroyed me more.
Then another thought hit me:
If everything in life is written already…
was it written that I would become this too?
Was I born wrong from the beginning?
I searched desperately for a cure.
For a way to change myself.
To become normal.
But nowhere did I find an answer.
Everywhere people only said:
"It's normal."
But it didn't feel normal to me.
How could it be normal…
when I felt disgusting afterward?
When I hated myself?
When I couldn't even look at myself sometimes?
And then I remembered moments when I actually felt happy.
Like that summer by the sea.
Back then…
I didn't feel ugly.
I didn't feel broken.
Maybe the problem was me.
Maybe I kept destroying myself with random people…
instead of looking for something real.
Meanwhile…
the situation at home kept getting worse.
Slowly…
I was watching the person I loved most disappear in front of me.
And I couldn't help.
But I still refused to accept it.
I kept lying:
"Everything will be okay."
I repeated it so many times…
that I almost convinced myself it was true.
My father was becoming unbearable again.
Alcohol was destroying him more and more.
The truth is…
he was the best father when he was sober.
And the worst possible person when he was drunk.
Anyone who lived with an alcoholic understands exactly what I mean.
My family gave me everything.
Food.
Protection.
A roof over my head.
But not love.
Not peace.
They protected me from the whole world…
except from themselves.
Sometimes I wonder…
am I doing all of this just to escape what happened when I was a child?
Am I the one to blame?
Are they?
Or is someone else responsible for all of this?
I believe in fate.
I believe everything happens for a reason.
But when you destroy yourself with your own choices…
is that fate too?
Or are you simply choosing your own downfall?
The world is crazy.
And maybe…
I'm even crazier.