I wish there was a reason to cry. Because then it would make sense and I would be able to – without guilt, without fear of my own emotions. I would be able to express without thought, without judgment. But instead there is no reason. There is the sound of my breath as it moves in and out of me. There are the soft melodies and notes that make up the universe. There is the feeling of remembrance that I want both to shirk and to embrace. There are the sirens.
And the heavy weight behind my eyelids, telling me that I am about to let go, about to release… that tyrannical feeling that indicates a misplaced mood. I don’t know how to explain it. I can only make metaphors to its existence. The hazy sun behind a white sky. The skinning of the raw pelt. Saying goodbye to your father for the last time.
I have no reason to cry and yet it lurks there, a pressure in my skull, the untapped desire.
I am scared that the apathy is coming back. I am scared of the depression I used to feel… the way it would make me seize up, a paralysis of thought and action. I am terrified beyond words that it might be coming back to hit me again. I didn’t want the experience, but now that I know what it feels like, I want to run from it.
When I last had this feeling, my solution was life-changing. I embraced God in a way that I had previously never thought about. I gave up on the purpose of things. I just don’t think I can do that again…
Please, someone, fix me.
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