Be Alright

Prologue: Life

..Now here I am. Watching my tears fall, joining the other droplets of water on the cold shower floor. Watching my warm blood slowly inch its way toward the drain, then trickle down.

It reminded me of my life.

Life.

Such a funny thing. I thought I had everything I could ever need, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it screwed me over again. Yet I still let myself be happy. For a short while, I'd forgotten the evil, unfair ways of the so called "gift of life".

Life tends to do that. Just when you're on top of the world, it drags you back down, making sure you fall hard. Dragging you ceaselessly across every sharp edge, and every bumb.

Now?
Now I don't think I really want a life
at all.

The worst part? The worst part is that no is around to tell me that I'm overreacting. No one is around to stop me. I don't want to think..I don't want to eat. I don't want to drink. I don't want to see or feel or laugh or cry or run or hide or breathe. I'm just tired...The problem is that I am a kind of tired that no amount of sleep could ever possibly fix.

I keep thinking..keep regretting. I wonder what I would do if I could go back in time? Fix my mistakes. Maybe if I could change something..Do something differently. Anything, really. So that I wouldn't be in this dark place again...Back to square one; drowning in my own blood, sweat and tears. Struggling to keep my head above the raging waters that are my own mistakes..My own guilt and sorrow.

But I can't go back. Even if I could..What would I change? If I changed even the slightest thing, who would I be today? Where would I end up? What would my life be like? So many fears. So many questions that will go unanswered, because unfortunately, there is no remote control to life. We, as humans, have no power over anything. We can't just pick up the remote and rewind

Play.
Forward.
Skip.
Not even pause.
The only thing we can do..
Is stop.

..And I can't tell you how tempting it was to stop.

I thought about Dr. Fuller. What would she have asked me, made me answer. 'What happened?' She would ask. 'Where did it start? Can you answer that for me? For me to help you, you need to open up."

Now that, I can answer. Lucky for you, reminiscing is something I do a whole lot.