❝Bathroom Talks❞ m.yg x p.jm [eng trans]

23

The old wood floor in my room seemed like it wanted to complain with its permanent creaking about my rare motions still unbalancing it. It was together with my breath and my heartbeat the only audible sound, but this seemed to be out of reach of my ears I had locked from every influence of the environment and drowned the fitting key into my pain's depths.
So deep I couldn't even find it my my own effort.
The outerworld seemed to be only a far away imagination of my functionally dubious mind, as well the sense of time seemed to run through my fingers without any efforts.
The only sign of a possible, temporal progress wasn't just the rising and setting of the sun I had banished from my eyes by letting down the shutters.
It was my body's suffering  announced by pain.
But the emotional loss of my mind seemed to prize above my body's.
And when my body would already calm down with a little help, this didn't apply for the emotional pain spreading like a pestilence.
I could feed it nonstop with guilt feelings, mutual recriminations and explanations conceived of desperation, it stayed unsatisfied.
With effort I gave the water formed to tears in my canthus' a last push before it hit the floor after a split second.
The pain didn't even avoid my body's reserves and pushed every single tear out of my eyes' stashes.
Outwardly I began to be akin to a statue that couldn't isolate itself with stones.
Instead the traces of my thoughts limiting to self-destruction like cracks through my glassy shell, prepared to change also the last and tenderest layer of my built harshly and not conceived self-protection into an artwork of uncountable shards its beauty revealed only in my pain and suffering.
The pain piercing through my head and soul like an illness, hoping to find a previously not found gap in reality's state and thus a gate for the   fulfillment of my wishfulness.
The suffering that seemed to be outclassed to the pain through its acceptance of reality and the following emptiness, was duelling against this between acceptance and misguided hope.
When I clutched to the rare available proves for his existence for one moment, I was already in the next moment in a depth of a depression created by the realization of the obvious illusion of his existence, that invaded now also the last leftovers of my aside mind.
Because my longing for the person whose being I thought to find my own existence's reason in, exceeded even the highest step on the stair of rationality and overflew it without giving it it a chance to defend itself.
The loss of this one person filling my thoughts and enabling the sight to the things beyond the obvious for my eyes, it surpassed itself.
As always I flouted my mind when I cherished suffering and pain, I dedicated solely to the escapist person.
To the moment my eyes had cried the last tear and my hands had desperately grasped for the illusion of the last time.
The moment pushing away my thoughts' shroud, letting the here and now entrance like it was an old guest and let the acceptance of reality prevail.
The moment I heard the ringing bell again for the first time after a timeless eternity.
With the fastness my staggering body allowed I sneaked through the momentary empty house like a shadow.
But when I pushed the handle, suddenly seeming strange and far away, like it was my first try, the sight on the person standing in front of me made me forget about any thoughts and made space for a newly founded surprise.

"I think I should explain some things to you."

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I didn't correct this and the next chapters for mistakes, I'm sorry if there still are some 🙁
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