Take comfort in the fact that you are not alone.
That this pain that you feel. This heavy burden you bare. Someone else bares it too.
Someone else is struggling to get out of bed.
Someone else is struggling to remember who they are.
Someone else wants their pain to end just as badly as you do.
Take comfort in the fact that someone else is hurting.
Why is someone else's pain suppose to make me feel better?
As if being understood is the best medicine for a dying heart.
I do not want to be understood. Not if it's like that.
Not if someone else has to understand what it is that I feel.
I wish you could place yourself in my shoes, but I do not want you to live in them.
I do not want you to live with this hunger that is never satisfied. This ache in my heart. The old scars on my wrists or the open wounds in my mouth.
My rotting teeth and rotten core and all the broken parts that have tried to become whole, but just never really worked right.
Take comfort in the fact that you are not alone.
But alone is where I'm safest. Alone is where I live. Where I eat and I sleep and I cry and I laugh and I love.
Alone is where I can breathe.
And If I can't breathe, I'll die and you don't want me to die. So why are you telling me that I am not alone.
Why are you dragging me from the comfort of my solitude.
As if the only life worth living is the one where I'm suffocating.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
Non-Fictionas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am am someone who...
