I don't know who I am anymore.
I feel like I'm losing a grip on everything I've ever known to be true. I'd rather trade the sizzling sensation of UV on my skin for the cool, calm hostility of the barrel and the promise given to me by 8 grams of metal.
Because why stay when sunrises don't give me the same feeling?
Why stay when dancing in my room isn't enjoyable anymore?
Why stay when my limbs scream for me to just..stop? To give in to the torturing nothing. Why stay?
"Because I love you"
That word. Love.
That word, love, filled to the brim with empty promises.
That word, love, that used to feel so sweet, but now bites my lips.
That word, love, that foolishly gave me hope.
That word, love, that I honestly believed could cross rivers and move mountains. That could fix anything. That could overcome everything.
That word, love, that doesn't mean anything to me anymore.
My heart is vacant. My heart is a hollow hole in my chest that no one can fill anymore. Sometimes I think I hear the echo of what used to be a heartbeat bounce around my rib cage every now and then. But, I learned it's just a memory on repeat. A reminder that it wasn't always empty. A reminder that I did this to myself.
My brain is loud. My brain constantly throbs and I think it's always angry. Because I should know better than to let people in. I should know better than to keep opening up to people. People keep teaching me over and over that they're not trustworthy. That it's not worth it anymore. My brain punishes me with headaches.
My body is heavy. My body feels like it could become the deepest cavern in existence at the next hard gust of wind, and I'd let it. I'd let it because imploding silently produces less casualties. I'd like to keep my body count low. This is why hurricanes are named after people.
Things can be bad. It feels like my body betrays me. Like I can't breathe on my own because the oxygen is being stolen from my lungs. Or how I get so sick, that nausea and I are best friends. Or that I'm always tired despite how much time I spend in the confines of my bed. Everything becomes uprooted in just one instant. And in the next, I'm in the eye.
A good day.
A productive day.
The calm before the storm comes back and hits me harder than it has before and I let it. I let it because it seems like it's not me. Like I'm looking at the destruction of everything I've ever loved from behind a glass wall. There's nothing I can do. I just stand there and watch as my life crumbles and dies.
A person or maybe two will try to revive it.
"It gets better." "Please, stay." "Don't leave me." "I love you."
No.
No, it's too late.
The DNR has been signed. Do not resuscitate. The hurricane did its damage. Now you understand why storms are named after people.
Fill me with drugs. Take away everything. Take it all away. Steal away the bubbly Friday evening feelings. Take away the dark days when I can't even find reason to sit up in my bed. Pump me full of drugs. Don't warn me about the side effects or tell me to mind the label. I already know what's there.
Warning: may cause nausea
Warning: may cause drowsiness
Warning: may induce separation from your friends
Warning: may cause you to distance yourself from your family
Warning: absolutely will drown out everything that makes you human
Fine. Okay.
Leave nothing but academics and numbness. No one can see past straight A's. Take it all. The memories, the goals, the dreams, the friendships. Everything. I don't want a reminder of the destruction left behind. I can ignore it. The walls are caving in around me and falling to my feet. The foundation has been cracked. Everything once stable is shaky and unreliable. The damage left behind by someone I don't recognize anymore. I can ignore it.
Just forget.
It's better to just forget. Forget this particular storm named after this particular person. I want to become lost to the wind. Let the destruction of a person fade away. It doesn't even matter if you understand why storms are named after people.
Let it pass.
You're no storm-chaser.
