You think you can see me, but you're wrong. I am not really here anymore. That body? I don't know. I don't care. No matter how hard you try to make me stay, remain, BE HERE, you will fail. All your stories, your "this is how it should be"s, your expectations - you know what? Shove them. Yes, exactly. That dark place.
For years, I thought that my situation was not so bad. I don't have any scars, am not disfigured, so I must be fine, no? I believed so myself. Really. I completely ignored the way I hunch in on myself... the way I wince at unexpected sounds... the way I try to be nice and smile and do everything it is supposed to be done.
There's a word for this - well-trained. Yes, be a good dog. Earn your cookie.
As I said, shove it. It's spring time, and the flowers are appearing everywhere as if by magic, and it's time for me to leave.
Towards the sun.
Towards something beautiful.