The Journal

SIX

Please don't fall apart, I can't face your broken heart.
– Luna Celestine Adler

A semicolon, never destined to be a period.

If my memory were but a blank canvas, waiting to be tinted, what hues of your being would you have painted? Would you sketch the contours of your dreams untold, or trace the silhouette of a heart, pure as gold?

It should be Friday, right? Why does it seem like a cry day? Or perhaps night, if I may? Once more, it is 10 o'clock, and here I am, lying in bed like a corpse and engulfed in the oppressive gloom of my own thoughts. Silent but obnoxious, tears cascade down my cheeks, in my room alone. The voices reverberate in my head, murmuring doubts and fears and telling me that I should not believe what I thought I knew. I tried to be optimistic, to shake off the weight of sadness that clings to me like a heavy cloak, but tonight, the darkness has caught up with me once more. This time, however, the image reflected back by the mirror is not of me, but rather of someone who seems content and happy. It's a facade, a mask that conceals the chaos that burns inside.

I'm fighting an invisible war inside of me, and no one is noticing. My soul is screaming silently, and my tears are blending with my sobs. When will this be over? In the daylight, I put on a facade of strength, a mask of normalcy, but as the night falls, the facade crumbles, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. Yes, I am fine, or at least I try to tell myself that. But as the hours go by, the mask comes off and I have to face the ugly reality of my own brokenness.

Do you want to try to reach out again? Being the one to strike up conversation and find comfort in other people's silence can be exhausting at times. Can you reach out to me without me having to ask? What if I'm in a deep hole, drowning in despair, and no one hears my silent cries for help? Would you look for me then, even if I don't scream?

With every uncontrollable cry, my chest hurts and tears flow down my face like a never-ending river. I'm not sure why I'm feeling this intense wave of emotion; it just comes over me like a tidal wave. My memory has been failing me a lot lately; small details are vanishing from my recall like sand between my fingers.

Though I'm terrified of burdening others with my problems, fear keeps me from reaching out to someone and sharing the weight of my burdens. So here I am, alone in my bed, enveloped in the darkness of my room, the only sounds the muffled cries escaping my lips and the silent sobs that wrack my body.

Tightening my fists, I feel as though I can stop the flood of tears that are about to overflow. How much longer must I put up with this never-ending cycle of instability? When I need someone to lean on, I find that I am reluctant to burden others with my pain, even though I have always been the one to listen and offer a shoulder to cry on.

I find it difficult to be who I really am, even around my closest friends who have known me since we were young. I'm afraid deep down that I'll never be able to be the person I used to be, afraid to show them how vulnerable I am.

Though every night, as if on cue, the darkness falls and I find myself drowning in a sea of hopelessness, I thought I was getting better, that I was learning to deal with the weight of my emotions.

There's only one person I feel comfortable enough to show my true self to, but even with that person, I hesitate, afraid of what it might mean for our relationship. It's a constant battle to control my feelings, to strike the right balance between showing too much and showing too little emotion.

Things change, isn't that strange? There was a time when your only desire was to forget everything and free yourself from the memories that weighed you down. However, as the days fly by in a blur, you discover that you are forgetting a lot and that you are unaware of anything.

Erasing memories is something you try to convince yourself will solve all your problems and make your load lighter. In actuality, though, it just makes things heavier and leaves you stumbling around in your own brain, trying to figure out where you've lost it. Time passes, taking away moments, events, and experiences like grains of sand through your fingers.

Once gone, they can't be brought back, no matter how desperately you wish to reclaim them. The experiences that once shaped your soul, that once filled you with joy or sorrow, cannot be recreated once they're gone.

Therefore, resist the urge to forget. Because it's too late to get back what was once etched in your memory when you wake up one day and discover that the memories you once held dear are fading away like echoes in the wind and you finally realize you're losing so much.

Again, I ask you: will you let me forget you, or will you always be there in the back of my mind, waiting to be recalled whenever memory fades?