I reach my hand out, desperately wanting to grasp the object that was teasing me so, hanging just out of my reach. But it seems every time I get close to having that object, it floats away, as if an illusion.
Days, weeks, months, years, and still I cannot possess the thing that is constantly there, constantly out of my reach. Could it be because it doesn't want me back? That I'm meant to live a life without it?
I strain to reach for it, every fiber of my body craving just to have that object..for a day even...a minute...a second.
I see other people, constantly having it, constantly holding it close, yet here I am...unable to find it...unable to reach it.
Tears fall slowly down my face, soft sobs shaking my body as I sit alone...without it..and I'm just alone. Maybe I can live without that object? That question rings in my mind, is it possible to live without something that always fills my mind? The sadness slowly melts in anger, the feeling pulsing through my veins, causing my teeth to grit together, tears still streaming from my eyes.
Why can't I reach it? Is there something wrong with me? Is there something default within me that makes me unable to ever grasp it, when it seems everyone else does?
The questions pound my mind, causing me to bow my head and run my hands through my hair in frustration, how can I make myself better? How can I fix whatever is wrong with me? My hands clench together, so harshly that my nails pierce my skin, slowly drawing blood.
It's always out of my reach...always.
What is that object I'm reaching for?
Love
YOU ARE READING
Delirious
Krótkie OpowiadaniaA collection of short stories. TRIGGER WARNING: Most, but not all, of these short stories deal with triggering themes such as depression, suicide, bullying, and/or eating disorders. Disclaimer: I in no way support suicide. If you or a friend is in...
