There’s something creepy crawling inside me.
No, it’s not a ghost. It’s worse.
It’s slowly eating away at my emotions, empathy, and will to feel.
I think it started small – a moment here, a moment there.
A forgotten phone call. A hug that didn’t land. A message left on read.

And now?
I feel… NOTHING.
Yes, I’m NUMB.

No, I’m not emotionless. I know I still have feelings. I just can’t feel them.
It’s like they’re locked in a room, and I’ve lost the key.

I used to be the emotional one – the cry-during-movies, send-poems-at-2 A.M. kind of guy.
Now I scroll past tearjerker videos and ghost texts from people I once called mine.

Relationships – oh boy – they’ve started to feel like EMI plans.
Too many terms, too many conditions, very little warmth.
Connections? What’s that?

I’m turning 40 in ten days.
Is this what people call a midlife crisis?
Because I don’t feel like buying that childhood dream car or running away to Goa anymore.

Many times, I’ve thought of giving up.
Quit.
End this for once.
The silence, the loneliness, the pretending.
But every time that darkness whispers in my ear, I look at her – my birthgiver.
The one who carried me, raised me, and leaned on me.
And I hold back.

It is the last thread holding me together.
And for her, I stay.

I know being queer in India comes with its own baggage.
We carry the weight of silence, the scars of rejection, and the guilt of simply existing.
Maybe that’s why we build walls so high – because breaking is easier in private.

I just want to feel something again.
Something real. Something raw.
Even if it’s pain. Even if it’s messy.

I want to look into someone’s eyes and not doubt their love.
I want to laugh and mean it. Cry and feel heard.
I want to be touched, not just skin-to-skin, but soul-to-soul.

Maybe 40 is not the crisis.
Maybe it’s the restart.

So here’s to melting the numbness.
One feeling at a time.
Even if it starts with writing this.

– A not-so-young, not-yet-dead gay man trying to find his spark again.