I stare at the screen, as if the shift in its lighting may give me an idea of what to do, the white background lined up with words seemingly mocking me for my lack of feeling.
I feel quite numb, as if my capacity to feel as been turned off and the void that I had managed to keep satisfied has suddenly become all too big for me to handle once again.
I'm not sure what to do, after all, I am alone as per usual in this house that brings me mixed feelings about whether to call it a home or simply a house.
As of right now, the thoughts tell me to drink it down 'till I don't feel the low thudding ache in my heart. They tell me to trade the heartache for physical pain because it's easier for me to handle some blood over my own emotions.
I knew the answer to my confession even before I said it.
I should have known better, but even so I decided to pour my heart out because I couldn't keep letting it tear me apart and consume me inside out.
Even though the let down was easy, my heart still hurts the same.
I just can't help it
I would spend all of my time on you, relive the days I've left behind for you, fvck up my life for you if I have to, spend my whole youth on you, I'd do anything for you.
I want to hold hands with you, I want to get close to you, I want to hug you, I want to hold and be held by you, I want to sleep next to you, I want to come home to you.
but you just don't feel the same way.....
July 31st, 2019
YOU ARE READING
In My Head
Non-FictionJust a place where I let the thoughts, ideas, tragedies, events and possibilities that thrive within me and the experiences I've lived be voiced and bear a place where others may understand them. •lower-case "i" intended •Cover made by me *Warning:...
