Fighting
I swear, there are times when I can feel the darkness closing in on me, and I'm always afraid that one of these times, I won't come back. I struggle to take a breath, but my chest feels empty, like there's no way to fill it, just an immense black hole that sucks in the rest of me. In the shower today, I crossed my hands over my heart and tried to will away the ache, but it kept coming like waves onto the shore, never letting me really recover. It seems when things are at their worst, I do my best to convince everyone when I speak to them that I have it under control.
We played the game and we lost. There was no way to win. We played anyhow. Part of life is learning that sometimes you lose. But I didn't know that one game could affect you so much. It was only a number to the rest of the world, no more to be mourned than a candle snuffed out after a few minutes of use. But to me, it's been like the sun itself went out, and I'm trying to leran how to live in the dark. I'm bad at it.
Just when I think I have figured out how to stunble through, it hits me like a stone, and I'm reeling off the path again. People seem to think that ill-starred love carries this huge romantic, magical implication. It's not magic. It's hard and it's painful, when true love is involved. I carry the scars with me no matter where I go, it paints the window with which I view life.
I just wish I could be as fine as people think I should be. I go between avoiding the world and crying out for anyone to talk to.
We played the game and we lost. There was no way to win. We played anyhow. Part of life is learning that sometimes you lose. But I didn't know that one game could affect you so much. It was only a number to the rest of the world, no more to be mourned than a candle snuffed out after a few minutes of use. But to me, it's been like the sun itself went out, and I'm trying to leran how to live in the dark. I'm bad at it.
Just when I think I have figured out how to stunble through, it hits me like a stone, and I'm reeling off the path again. People seem to think that ill-starred love carries this huge romantic, magical implication. It's not magic. It's hard and it's painful, when true love is involved. I carry the scars with me no matter where I go, it paints the window with which I view life.
I just wish I could be as fine as people think I should be. I go between avoiding the world and crying out for anyone to talk to.