The Fairy Tales of a Lone Wolf

I have to warn you that if you keep reading this post, your concept of human relationships is likely to change. Society as we know it might collapse if this becomes viral. I’m not trying to pass myself as a know-it-all philosopher who keeps questioning everything just for the sake of enraging or dividing people. However, I have suffered my fair share of misfortunes in this life, and I would like to share one interesting lesson that I learned. Let’s break the ice between us first by playing a game (don’t worry, this is connected to the whole point of this post). I want you to look at the images below and say the first words that come to your mind. Say them aloud.

Awesome! My words were: 

ANXIETY

OVERCROWDED

STRESS 

FEAR 

Let's compare and contrast our answers. 

A) If your words were in the happier spectrum of the full-of-connotations and not-at-all-neutral linguistic system, I hope you never lose this unabashed sociability and playfulness, maybe even confidence, that you seem to possess. 

Can you really see yourself in any of those pictures? 

I was five years old when ... 

Before I spill my fascinating story and you get to act like you're Freud, click this link in order to create the right mood. Don't worry I'm not going to steal all your money the moment you press the link 😏. 

As I was saying, I was five years old when I attended school for the first time. I don't remember much, but I do have this image in my head; My mum, my day, my older brother and I sit at the kitchen table. They are all jolly and making grand gestures trying to convince me that going to school is fun. I can only see their wide smiles as the rest of their faces are covered by the intense sunbeams that invade the room from the open windows. This brightness forces my eyes to shut. At least, I can feel their warmth embracing me. At the same time, my nose is working hard, trying to distinguish the array of mouthwatering odours that have been tantalising it for so long. It is the sweet aroma of freshly cooked eggs and a cocoa cake that fill the whole house. 

To cut a long story short, I was excited to explore this new territory they called "primary school" and they considered it to be an important passage of life. But the second memory I have from that day is me sitting on a bench in the empty playground area of the school, waiting for someone to pick me up. I don't know how long it took for one of the teachers to notice me and drive me home. 

This was the day I learned that I shouldn't depend on anyone. Even people who have the best intentions may fail you accidentally or unconsciously. They are humans and although some of us like to forget it, humans are flawed beings. This is why the older I get, the less help I ask for. 

The problem arose when my subconscious decided to see friendships as subservient bonds. It makes sense as if you have friends, you tend to turn to them whenever a problem comes up -from having the need to get something off your chest to just feeling bored and looking for a way to pass the time- instead of being able to resolve it on your own. This type of behaviour shows weakness and vulnerability. 

B) There is always the possibility that a dose of stress ran through your veins at the sight of the images above as well. If this is the case, let me tell you a fairy tale to calm you down. 

Once upon a time, there was a young man named Luke. Luke had been studying for a physics degree for two month and he had never felt happier in his entire life. Physics turned out to be even more fascinating than he had expected. Besides all the knowledge of how powers on earth work, he got to witness friction and attraction among people. His iris expanded and his horizon broadened by meeting people so different from him. They were all adventurous and curious while he had learned to be conscious and mindful. His interactions with his peers and the bonds he formed with some of his classmates loosened him up a lot. 

One Monday, he had arranged to go for a coffee with a close friend from his theatre group after an astronomy lecture. He was very exuberant as he was mesmerised by the vastness of the cosmos -so much that he was considering specialising in this specific field- and at the same time, his mind kept drifting to Sibyl, his theatre buddy. Images of stars reminded him of her honey and cinnamon aroma, theories about black holes confused him as much as her Mona Lisa smile, the sight of a telescope made him wish that he could look inside her brain. But when they finally met, Luke was distracted and absent-minded. To his surprise, Sibyl noticed that and asked him what was going on. He was relieved to share his worries about a guy at his astronomy course. 

"Why don't you go and introduce yourself to him?" Sibyl asked. 

"Of course I thought of that, but he always has his headphones on and he only takes them off when the lecture starts."

"I think that you should introduce yourself anyway. I'm pretty sure that he will be glad to have at least one person saying hi to him every now and then. I used to be the loner kid at my high school and believe me, it wasn't fun at all." 

Luke was shocked to hear that and they spent the rest of their date talking about their childhood and adolescence. 

The following Monday, Luke was determined to introduce himself to Stave -this is how he named the guy in his head. But Stave didn't come to the lecture that Monday. Soon Luke realised that he took his decision two months too late. He never saw Steve again. 

😧😫😭

I know that my fairy tale is not a real fairy tale; You didn't get the happy ending with the good characters living happily ever after while the evil ones are punished as you might have expected. Well, that doesn't mean that my characters are unhappy. For all we know, Stave might have dropped out of school in order to pursue his dream of becoming a musician. Or he killed himself because he thought himself unworthy of receiving love and affection. No matter the case, who are we to judge a person for their life choices? Who are we to criticise Stave or Luke? We don't really know them. 

There is only one person to whom I can't show any compassion and this is Helen. At junior high school, Helen called my friend Alexa ugly and I threw my scissors at her. 

I found Helen's Instagram the other day by chance. I could tell it was her right away without even checking her handle. She has the same hazel almond eyes framed by pronounced cheekbones and delicate nose. 

I stalk her social media accounts and I see that she is a tall, skinny journalist, specialising in law cases. She has published a lot of articles on The Guardian and The Times and she has been asked to cover cases for the BBC News. Her only flaw? The small scar on her right cheek close to her ear. You have to look very carefully to notice it, but once you do you cannot unsee it. It is a white elevated vertical line of about one inch. 

You know what infuriates me the most? I wish I had hurt her more. I sometimes imagine how I would feel if the scissor blade had been hammered in her eye. She wouldn't gloat about her success now. The sight of someone's blood, however, would have definitely horrified me back then. 

I'll never forget the first time I saw this scarlet substance. It was a few weeks after my first day at primary school. I was at home and I heard my stomach grumbling. I headed to the kitchen and I started rummaging through the cabinets. After a while, I decided on a sandwich with tomatoes, feta cheese and olives. I took one tomato and placed it under the tap's waterfall. The bread was soft, so it was easy to sever it in two with my hands. I crumbled some chunks of cheese with my fingers and put them on the bread along with the olives. I hadn't cut tomatoes before, but I had seen my mum chop and cook things a million times. My hands were all slippery from the contact with all the previous ingredients and the pointed edge of the knife went through the tomato and reached my flesh. It wasn't a serious injury, but several chubby red droplets escaped from the horizontal portal that the blade activated in my palm. I was staring at the runny wound, shocked at the realisation that this is what being in an accident and getting injured really meant and felt like. I can't tell what was going on in my mind at that moment, but I can recall a sour, metallic taste in my mouth. Opening my eyes and seeing my palm red and swollen, I felt tired and famished. I added the huge pieces of tomato in the sandwich and I devoured it while watching TV in the living room. 

And this is the point where everything will come full circle. I detest the social convention which dictates that people should socialise and bond with each other. This was a reasonable and imperative rule when we used to live in caves and we had to work together in order to forage successfully while also protecting the species from predators. Nowadays, humans work in order to afford shelter, food and clothes. Thus, there is no real need for socialisation. Nevertheless, friendships, filial and romantic bonds are promoted today so that people never reach their full potential. We are bombarded with images of the happy -but not the bad- moments, the love -but never the hurt- that these relationships can offer so as to make people believe that they either don't want to live all alone or they wouldn't survive even if they tried. However, I feel that if you put all your passion, care and energy to yourself, you'd see that it is quite easy to make better choices for your life and that there is enough time in a day to hone multiple skills and that it is possible to excel in many different fields. Of course, you cannot enjoy all those benefits when other people distract you from becoming the best version of yourself by asking for your time, your attention, your affection. Therefore, don't let society guilt-trip you into accepting that there is something wrong with you just because you can't make any friends as in reality you just refuse to follow the primitive instinct of belonging in a community solely because people were afraid of dying. 

Unfortunately, it is too late for me. Although I am independent and bonds-free, I have once been enchanted by the siren song of trusting and loving people unconditionally. The silence that dominated my life, when the melody abruptly ceased one day, has left me begging for its return. But maybe there is still some hope for you. You read my stories and I can ascertain what you've probably guessed by now;  everyone is dead in one way or another. It is up to you now to decide which path you wish to take. Just choose wisely because the further you walk, the harder it becomes to come back.