Sometimes things just get to heavy to bear. You can go through your day or week or month feeling absolutely fine. And it only takes that one moment of quiet reflection to realize things aren't as great at they seem to be at first glance. From the outside looking in it may seem like you have it all together. But after quiet deliberation, a light goes off and somewhere deep inside of you and the levy breaks. Suddenly you're not as pretty. Or as thin. Your relationships are more strained and all the more distant. You smile way less and eat way more. Then you cry because you eat. Then you eat because you cry. And the one you thought would always be there is open with everyone but the one they need to be open with. You. That's the assumption. But everything is open because the ideal of what romance used to mean is now closed. The door seems to be slowly shutting on what a real relationship entails. Because somehow down the road less traveled, that door you left unattended, let the hornets fly in. And now your whole world seems fleeting non-committal disingenuous and highly unattached. All you really wanna do is prove to world that you're living in that you're still here. But as life would have it, words fail you. Of course, because it's the only thing that seems familiar to you these days. And at the end of a rope that long it all becomes one big self-infliction. What's even worse is that it hurts. Like bleach covered hell. But because the human body is merciful when adrenaline is pumping, you feel nothing. Quite frankly, I don't know which thing is worse. The billion dollar question is: What's to be done when it comes to this point? Well, Romeo&Juliet swallowed the pestilence of life. Hamlet remained tortured and Othello's fury left Desdemona absolutely stiff. No pun intended. I guess one can bid adieu the old fashioned way, OR sit and enjoy the luxury of breathing, while praying that they have yet another chance at attempting a brighter smile on brighter day. Decisions, Decisions.
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