Have you ever cried before getting out of bed in the morning? You roll over, look at your clock. You don’t know what time you were hoping for, but this is not it. It seems wrong that the rest of the day should even be.
Have you ever put on the smile of a happy person and wondered what grows in the gap? What’s in that void between the ‘you’ that the world sees and the ‘you’ that lurks within? What happens if they grow too far apart, will you fall in, will something be lost?
Have you ever known that if someone talks to you right now you will break? You don’t know what form that breaking will take, but you know, for the next 10 seconds, nothing must change. Your ears redden, muffling the others. Your throat hardens; you breath out, but can’t get it back. You tremble on the inside, your eyes are warm. You’re cold, it’s dark. The buzzing, oh god the buzzing. Then it all fades. The sound, the light, they come back. You breathe.
Have the voices ever become so vivid that you worry you’ll scream back? Where will you be when it happens?
Have you ever been caught up in some task, not paying attention to yourself, and suddenly realised you’ve been happy just this moment? The realisation destroys the feeling. For a second you can feel the lightness of the memory, but it soon turns to mud and slips through your fingers. You wonder if that lightness was what you used to have all the time.