| District 9 | STRAY KIDS SHIPS

Losing Apart Of Yourself Works Like Dominos// Jeongchan

Losing Apart Of Yourself Works Like Dominos

Jeongchan(Jeongin x Chan)

Genre: angst/ sad 

Status: established

words: 1082

Another Segment of 'Negative Aspects of Life"

I think during all the years I've lived, there's still one thing I haven't become used to and that's losing a part of myself.

I, as a person, strongly believe in the idea that nothing lasts forever. My life, as much as a blessing as it's been at times and throughout the year, doesn't allow me to believe that everything will last until the day I die and beyond. It would almost be selfish of me to do so because things change. People change. Cities change. Countries change. The world changes. Everything changes.

But yet, I seem to forget this when I start losing a part of myself that I thoroughly enjoyed.

As humans, we tend to see something we like, experience it, adapt around it, and then throw a tantrum when it gets taken away from us. Like a child's favorite toy or a well-paying job that an adult actually enjoys. In this sense, in a strictly personal sense, it seems my willingness to create has been ripped right out from underneath my feet.

Or perhaps shimmied out slowly but surely. It's not as if I'd have a good idea... it seems I really only noticed it was gone recently.

I don't know what happened back in November... I don't know what part of my brain just switched off when or where or why, but that's the earliest I can trackback all of this.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is the fact that despite my unwillingness to create, my brain still runs at a million miles an hour developing concepts in my head, and my finger's aching to finally create something worth loving but I find that with most projects I start nowadays... I don't even finish them.

My computer practically oozed half-written stories I can tell through songs and music I started and gave up on in the same day. No matter how much my brain craves to see finished projects, everything else simply waves it off because they know it'll never happen. Even the smallest of projects fail to get finished... And it makes everything ten times worse.

I've realized that when you start losing a certain aspect of yourself, it tends to work like dominos. When you lose one piece, you lose another, and another, and another until you're stripped to the bone and there's nothing left for you to reach out to. There's nothing left for you that not even the bugs are interested in your skeleton and possibly finding scraps because even they know that there's nothing there.

You're left laying there wondering when you'll be given a chance at a new start.

I don't remember the last time I had a decent night's sleep and I find that more times than not, I wake up before the sun rises or fall asleep as it begins to peek over the horizon. My brain runs so wildly with possible ideas of projects and how to fix this harsh loop I've been thrown in but it's so... quiet.

I'm not sure what's happening. I'm not sure if this is simply a rough spot I'll get over in a few weeks, or me finally losing something that had become such a deep part of my life, but I know that on nights like this where my emotional cords decide they want to work again, I'll wake up empty tomorrow.

Growing up the way I did, the way the last few years have gone for my life, I find that the peace and good luck streak tends to not last for very long so I'm not sure why this downfall rocked me to my core...

I feel like something, some cruel string of fate stripped every aspect of me, and who I've known over the past year from me and doesn't intend to give it back.

I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose my passion.

It's the only thing I have.

"Chan? Chan, you need to come home,"

"Let me finish this project-"

"Hyung you've been staring at the computer screen for hours. Come on. Let's get some sleep," Jeongin, bless his poor heart, didn't have a clue as to what ran through my head on a daily basis. Jeongin was nice to have around. He made me feel good. He made me feel wanted. But there was no way I'd get any sleep tonight. Not even Jeongin could shut my brain up and get me to sleep.

"Just let me finish this! It's almost finished!" I snapped back, staring Jeongin down with what I hoped was a storm of absolute anger but I knew better. Even when my emotions decided they wanted to work, my eyes would still ooze the emptiness I feel on a daily basis.

Maybe that's more haunting than the former.

"Hyung. Home. Now," Jeongin snapped back, and I can't even begin to explain the absolute envy coursing through my veins seeing him wearing his heart on his sleeve. I didn't have the energy to fight him though so he closed everything and followed Jeongin out of the company building and back to the dorms.

I could tell Jeongin knew something was wrong and trying his best to make me feel better but everything feels as hazy as it does clear. It's as if the thoughts in my head are clear, but they're not my own.

"Do you want to cuddle when we get home?"

"Sure," It was quick, snappy, and not at all fond with affection. I could tell it sent Jeongin reeling slightly but I didn't care. I was exhausted. I was empty. I was losing parts of myself that I couldn't afford to lose.

My lack of creativity will cost us everything. It will cost me my name, my career, and my passion. When you have such little to live for, you tend to guard it with such fierce furiously.

I survived for 10 years of my life. I've had a taste of living for the last few years.

I don't want to give it up yet. I need it. "Hyung, what's wrong?" Jeongin questioned carefully.

And with a smile I know works so well in covering up everything, I uttered, "I'm just tired, Innie. It's been a rough day."

"I'm sure tomorrow will be better."

Maybe I'm caught up in my own head. Maybe my thoughts will change tomorrow and I'll look back on this and wonder what was swirling around my head but...

All I know now is that I need a break.