Heartbreak Season.

As RF said after yet another heartbreaking loss to Rafa in a Grand Slam Final, I repeat, "God, it's killing me." He cried copious amounts of tears when he said that, but it will never happen to me. I wish it had. It would have been such a relief.

I have an admission to make: I know this is so unlike me and I hate doing this. Neither am I enjoying putting it down here. But, if it so helps, I want to put it down in writing that, currently, I'm an emotional wreck. A total wreck. The past one month (and this period of woes continues) has been one of the most torturous periods of my short life so far. I'm naturally cheerful and full of positive energy. For me to get affected this much doesn't bode well at all for my current state of mind. I'm tightly wound up, unable to show emotion, trying to laugh off my disappointment and failures and trying my hand so desperately at self-deprecating humour in the hope that it would lessen this ever-present feeling of tension and uncertainty gnawing at my innards.

Yes. I'm rather deeply affected and if this is not a period of crisis, then I haven't known any in life till now. I have shut my mind off completely to the outside world. Nobody will ever understand the pain and anguish within me because I prefer to bear it alone. And yes, I will show my smiling face to the world. It feels good to face adversity with a smile, no matter how much you have to suffer inside to bring forth that laborious smile on your lips. I know how hard it is and how much it takes out of oneself to accomplish it.

This is a season of heartbreaks and disappointments. And I, forever the superman according to my proud self, am in a royal mess. I will soldier on.