I just need to learn how to expand the space around it so that I can fucking breathe.
[“hey, I promise I’m bouncing back- I know everything is so different. I can see everyone’s sadness like a thousand lights reflecting off the moon”]
This season is dreadful. I can’t explain how it shatters and doesn’t fall to the ground. It hovers like an eerie promise, except I never agreed to keep one. It’s that moment of fear that makes your stomach liquefy and organs deplete- you swear you die for a moment because it strikes through you so fiercely, but you’re somehow alive. You’re very-much alive and not sure if you want to be. I’m pacing back and forth in my apartment. I do these things when I feel like a part of me is slipping. I’m so far gone and I don’t know how to accept that- do you have any answers? Tonight, Nicole texted me and said that no one expects me to bounce back from all this. Told me that she’d love me through every season forever and always. I feel everyone reach out like a reflex because they need me and I need them too and I need to heal from this, but I can’t.
This heaviness will always fill my hollows- I just need to learn how to expand the space around it so that I can fucking breathe.
Everyone tells me how much I look like my father. Maybe that’s why I shattered every mirror in the house, because my reflection makes me sad. Makes me want more of something I can’t reach. Makes me feel reckless.
I pick apart my sadness like the skin around my fingernails- watch it bleed and bleed and bleed. I know I need to stop this but I’m begging to understand it.
I was fighting too, you know.
This was my war and I faught well. So fucking well. We did so fucking well- that’s a promise I can keep- Something I can tell myself over and over again and believe it each time. Call Nicole when I need someone to remind me of the journey.
And even though this season is dreadful, I’m still here, right?