Gray

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Gray -  
loneliness and isolation


~

The crashing waves of the sinister sea matched the dim, melancholy rays of the moon.

I sat at the edge of the cliff, my legs dangling over the pit of death. I wasn't scared. In fact, it had a calming effect. The rough, chaotic waves reminded me that my turmoil was of much smaller caliber. I needed an escape from the constant reminder of my loneliness, which was amplified at the camp.

My buddies were in the tents there, sticking their STD coated sticks in holes of filth. Their disgusting cries of animalistic need interrupted the beautiful silence of nature.

If I was aware that this entire camping trip would become a facade for a literal fúck fest, I wouldn't have agreed to come in the first place. Although, given their natures, I shouldn't be surprised it turned out to be this way. In fact, I should've bailed the moment they decided to invite the three chicks we bumped into halfway to our campsite.

At least they're doing something with their lives instead of being a self-pitying sack of shit.

Great. Even my conscience is looking down upon me.

My palms dug into the rugged rocks, closing tightly around a particular one. I welcomed the pain. It was real, raw, but it still couldn't take away the lingering thoughts of her.

She haunts my dreams by night and plagues my thoughts by day. I can't escape.

Do you really want to?

The answer is no. The answer will always be no and that's what bothers me. That I'm so completely whipped by the one girl who doesn't even know of my existence.

I've ran countless scenarios of introducing myself to her, but my entire being freezes over as soon as I catch a hint of her presence. My throat would clog up, and my legs would suddenly become glued to the ground.

I looked at my bloodied palms, the tornado of cuts reflecting upon my mind. With a final sign of discontentment, I left the cliff behind.

The salty, biting wind continued to whisper a repeated tune in my ears as I returned to camp.

She is summer, and I am winter.

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