I’ve been very lucky for a long time. I’d become so above sadness that I stopped writing. Now, I’m exhausted. There’s a weight in my chest, that floats around sometimes. In the clouds in my head, in the slow rush of blood in my veins, in the time that whiles away. My back feels so flaccid, it’s like my spine won’t hold my head up anymore. I guess all we needed for this recipe were the ingredients of despair. I see a dash of desperation, two cups full of weariness, added to a broth of anxiety.
My bones feel heavier, there’s a weight to them that I hadn’t felt before. My fingers type this in a drowsy trance. There’s rust in my words, a tang in my emotions. When had the world become so dreary?
I’m happy too for some things. It’s a boat rocking ever so slightly in the sea. It seems so lonesome, but brave; I admire it for withstanding the tide. There’s a haze in my eyes and my face marred in the way it’s been for years. I guess flaws really do define you.
I’ve had so many things to be grateful for, it was daunting. I knew it in my heart, the white of the ceiling I fixated on, that I didn’t deserve them. That my will had given out and I did not have the spine nor the stomach to face me. The person I’d become while I lay still and watched as the years slipped past. I was hungry and tired. Famished in ways food could not satiate. Yet, I ate. I hated watching the clock as it ticked by so I stopped. I watched the marvellous lives of others. Their delicate tales of love, family and belonging. Their sense of self, their dreams and their tears, lulled me into another sunset of emptiness. I had run for so long, I had run without a gasp for breath, without a moment for thought. I ran so far that I found myself alone yet again.
The dark was a comforting companion. The barren land did not echo my faults either. So I sat there, the warm sand was wonderful, and the night breeze felt enchanting. I told myself I would rest. For a short while. Only a moment to catch my breath. The void felt liberating. The constant weight on my chest felt numb, subsiding to a dull ache. My rest slowly overtook me. I had become too comfortable with just existing.
I think I’ve been ruined forever.
I no longer hear the tide and my wooden boat as it knocks against its oars. I don’t hear any whispers. There’s only a deafening silence. An eerie calm in my wretched soul. I feel a slithering against my chest. It’s me wanting to get away from me. It puts up a feeble fight. Undetermined, lost and weak against the darkness.
How do I run away when I have me in clutches? How do I breathe the way people do? The kind of breath that fills them with life. A light that encompasses them and a beacon they seem to share. Cold. Cold is all I feel. The air filling my lungs is colder, the chill getting to my ribs. Yet they seem to shackle me tighter.
Let me breathe, I beg. Let me win. From now until forever.
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