You know that moment when it hits you? When it strikes you clean across the face so hard you fall down. Hard and fast you hit the floor and you're afraid to get up... So scared of moving because it would cause time to keep moving. So you sit there hunched, shivering and scared like a meaningless lump on the floor. With no purpose, no meaning just... furniture. Awaiting the next blow you close your eyes as tight as you can as if it would somehow make you disappear, invisible. And all the while you forget the world outside and won't notice that the next blow doesn't come. There's just an emptiness screaming at you to move, breathe, do something!
It can take minutes, days, months, years before it hits. Sometimes it takes a couple of weeks and that panic grabs you by the heart and tosses it all the way across the room and you figure it out: you're alone now.
I thought it was easy, almost too easy. I told them I was waiting. Waiting for the realization, to feel what I'm supposed to, and I did. And now I'm afraid to open the door, it feels like regret will push through it and kill me. It feels like I'm dying. But there are no tears. Not anymore, just a sense of not being able to breathe. Because if I breathe I'll make it real. But it is real, it's right there... I grazed the corner I didn't want to see and now I'm right where I didn't want to be.
So what now? Will you tell me because I'm at a loss, I don't know which way to turn and the only place I had I eliminated all by myself... I don't want to look at these walls, don't want to feel the ghosts taunting me. But I don't have a choice, having only been home to sleep these past fourteen days I am now feeling what it feels like not to run and face it head on and it hurts. More than I thought it would.
I'm sorry...
The running stopped. At some point you just have to stop running, I guess.
//Em
No comments:
Post a Comment