odes to the isolated [on hold]

i

She was lost. She was numb, even. Her daily routine never changed. She was just another cog in the figurative machine. She wanted to feel something again. She just didn't know how. It wasn't that she was physically lost, so much as she was out of touch with reality, you could say. She isolated herself a lot of the time. A majority of that time was spent in her apartment, laying in bed. It hadn't always been this way, though.

One year. That's how long she had been doing this for. But she had good reason. It started just after her closest friends, Arabella, committed suicide. She never could figure out an explanation as to why she had done it. But, she knew there had to have been one, regardless of whether or not she would ever know what it was.

They were best friends since third grade. They hung out all the time. They told each other everything. Or, at least that's what she thought. But it was too late now; she couldn't do anything about it. She knew that and it completely broke her heart. So much that she hid away from everyone. She lost sight of what it was like to really live. That's not what she wanted anymore.

She resolved to start going out more. There was a small bridge over the lake in the park. That was her favorite place to go before Arabella died. It was where she went when she wrote. She liked writing poems and the bridge was where she felt she could think best. The bridge was her safe space. She had been going there to write since she was sixteen, three years ago. It started off as an occasional thing, only going once or twice a month. Then it became multiple times a week. It was like she couldn't live without going there and writing at least one poem each time. Numerous journals were completely filled with her poems.

But at that point, it had been a year since she had been there. One year since she had picked up a journal and expressed her emotions in the form of poems. She decided it would be a good idea to start writing again. So, the next morning, she walked down to the park. After all those months, it was still exactly how she had remembered it. She jogged over to the bridge just like she used to. The park was never really populated and that still hadn't changed. That was one of the reasons she liked the park. It was always nice and quiet. but

She sat down on the bridge, hanging her legs off the side, under the railing. The feeling was reminiscent of all the memories she made on the bridge. She thought of all the poems she wrote, especially the ones she was most proud of. A lot of the times, it took her a little while to think of an idea for a poem, she never pre-planned anything. She sat patiently, watching everything around her, waiting for something to spark some motivation. But, it just wasn't happening today. Nothing was inspiring her this time. She was sat there for at least an hour, yet, there was no good turn-out. The hope she had was starting to falter. Then, she saw someone else in the park.

oh heck theres chapter one of this story. i already have chapter two ready to post but i'll prolly wait to post it so enjoy this for now

jamie x