Thirteen

Most nights I’ll lie in bed and the dreadful feeling of loneliness will invade my conscience.
The shackles tighten around my limbs and the cement weighs down on my body. Slowly it drains me of my energy and space to breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. I’m shaking but my chest burns like it’s on fire. My heart races and my breathing is shallow.

And in the early morning, I’ll run. I’ll run and I’ll run and I’ll run until my lungs feel like collapsing and my empty stomach feels the need to purge. I’ll run until I reach the cliff that looms over the wide, blue waterscape and I’ll scream whatever breath remains in my lungs. I’ll halt there, in tune with my senses. I’ll smell the air damp with rain from the night before. I’ll hear the waves crashing rhythmically like a lullaby on the rocks below, drawing me in to an eternal slumber. I’ll watch the morning flock spread their wings and take flight, giving rise to my jealousy of their freedom. The icy breeze snaps me out of my daze and I’ll walk the long way home, alone. //

What is true happiness? Is it something that is only revealed to us at the very end of our life when we are reflecting on the past to a single moment that we felt truly happy? Or can we convince ourselves that there are multiple levels of true happiness so that every present moment we feel we are the happiest, we can define ourselves as being “truly” happy? Or is true happiness connected to a certain individual and the way their presence is able to help you achieve living in a truly happiest moment? Sure, I have someone who fulfills that certain individual’s role in my life. But the truly happy moments I experience are only fleeting. Too often I am dragged in and out of the abyss; my heart cannot keep up with the crash after a fall.

It feels like there’s no one for me to turn to. Because the ones who say they’ll always be there for me are never there when I need them the most. //

“Sorry” is not your ticket for making amends. Too many times did you say “sorry” only for you to do it all to me again. I don’t want an apology nor your words or your promises. Show me, if you really mean it, through your actions. Show me you care through your passion and willingness to fight for what you say is worth fighting for. Show me the length you would go for something that seems almost impossible, because trying your hardest even if only to fail, shows more to me than you fleeing from the barriers.

And if you can’t show me, don’t make those empty promises to me that you know you won’t even try to keep. //


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