Hopeless

How Can You Shine?

~~~~~~~~

I think at this point I really did want to die. 

I don't think I was even trying really. I just think... there was no more life to live. But then I looked into the sun, and my eyes burnt, but I saw something, I saw... you. And I couldn't look away. 

I don't think I've ever wanted to live more. 

*********

Waking up and realizing you ultimately have made no progress to the goal you intended to achieve, was entirely disheartening. He was exhausted. Another part of himself cursed him for not working on overdrive. 

But alas it was three am and he passed out over his beautiful poem. Now it would be harder to wake up for work... 

Plus, his head was aching along with the rest of his body. After all, falling asleep in a horrible way wasn't going to aid his acting physic. 

Then, immediately his head shot up, causing spikes to force their way through his spine. He cringed, yet stood pushing the chair back with his shins. His body and mind were muggy and lost. They didn't feel like one entity but instead ripping up each other's throats. 

He wasn't going to work in two hours. There was no way to work through his mental health and physical health in that time. He'd call Barb when he felt more pristine. In the meantime, he stumbled through his apartment. Shakily finding a seltzer in his fridge, he popped it open and drank heartily. Feeling the sharp tingle of bubbles in his mouth and throat. 

Still, he felt groggy and weak. Self-care would be helpful if he could manage that at the moment. But, he didn't entirely care about himself. Instead, he walked into his bathroom, looking in the mirror. 

Yep... He looked completely destroyed. 

Inwardly he cringed again, forcing his head down so he wouldn't have to hate on himself even more. The urge to look again still came and wouldn't leave as he rubbed his eyes. 

His reflection looked dead. In some sick way, he was okay with that. But it didn't make sense for what he really needed today. 

There was ink over his left cheek and forehead, smudged and bleeding. He was supposed to care, supposed to want to change. Because later he would be faced with a task he couldn't fail. Something requiring him to look the part of love. Yet he had no motivation for such a task.  

He sighed and picked up a brush from the cabinet beside him, brushing out the estranged knots. 

It was going to be a long morning.

~~~~~~~~~

I realize that living is a little hard when smoke is covering the sun. 

Infiltrating my lungs. 

Covering you up. 

And all I can do is watch. 

I'm a slave to my own faults. Cravings. Lust. Love. 

*********

It was around six am when Jamie called into work, looking pristine enough so that his life looked fine. Part of him didn't want to look fine. He wanted Kevin to see him at his worst, how much he felt. 

But that thought just gave him more anxiety. Thoughts rushing back to his head. He nearly had a panic attack thinking about what would happen. 

This event wasn't scripted, anyone could say anything, he couldn't be perfect. 

Honestly, he had no clue what he was about to do. Or face for that matter. But he started walking across the town, hands in his jean pockets and slouched over, avoiding all possible communication.