Many people say they’re empty. But I’m too full. Full of memories, fears, hope, love, and anger. I have too much inside myself. I have a heart that’s getting too heavy to carry around. I feel so much, I can’t have peace.
There is so much I have to say, but words seem to be failing me. I find myself standing in the dark once room again, and I am unsure of my abilities to plot another escape. This room does not let go easily. I want to say this happened suddenly, but the truth is that I have felt it coming for some time now. A little less hope each day, a little more pain.
The loneliness sets in. The kind of loneliness that sets up shop deep in my bones. There is no hand to hold, no shoulder to cry on. I sit here with nothing more to offer. Decaying – slow at first and now I cannot slow it down. I cry looking out the window, shedding tears of every one of my dreams lost. If I could think of just one more thing to wish for. But hope has only ever disappointed me. This place is my foe, but this place is my oldest and dearest friend. I slip into this darkness without much fight.
I don’t know. Lunatic overdrive. I want my fairy tale now, I could use it. That person to come save me … even though I know everyone thinks it has to be me saving myself. I’ve tried that. I’m ready for my hand to be kissed. Or for it to just be done and over with.
I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow. Well, I’ll try.