Saturday 30 December 2017

Waiting

Sometimes, staying alive is the most you can do.

Some days, trying to utter ‘happiness’ feels like metallic tongs in your throat holding you from within.

‘Love’ sounds like fingernails on a wall making you wince until you shut your eyes or look away.

‘Laughter’ makes your bones ache not with the tickle or the vibration but with the weight of expectations.

Sometimes loving and laughing and even living are too much.

Sitting or standing, even sleeping is too much.

Being is too much.


On these days, the best I can do is wrap my arms around myself and just stay here a little while longer. I can’t laugh, I can’t stand, and I surely can’t love. So I’ll just try to be. Hoping that these expectations will go away, these voices in my head will quieten, and hoping that when it’s all over, what will remain here will still be me. 

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