Saturday, July 07, 2012

And here we are again...

Note: Second one of the day. A Bit longer than usual but hopefully worth it ;)

“Let me cry, let me feel, I don't care if it's good or bad anymore, I just want to be able to feel something, because I’m so numb... I’ve been numb for years and I don't think I can stand it anymore. I don't want to be like this anymore” - she says not knowing exactly to whom she is talking about. Fear, pain, desperation, all of it at the same time, wrapped in a huge cloud that insists to take over. So many years she had been holding it inside, all the tears that she never allowed herself to cry are now leaving her eyes without hesitation as she sobs on the bathroom floor.
“I want to be more than who I am, I have to be more than who I am” - she repeats in a loop, trying to convince herself unsuccessfully, as she knows that she could never change, she doesn’t know how. Kneeled on the floor, bare naked thighs touching the cold tile, she begs for someone to come and take the pain away, for someone to pick her up and hold her, for someone to whisper to her hear that everything is going to be all right as she has been doing to others so many times during her whole life.
“You need to snap out of it, you need get a grip” - she orders herself, getting a glimpse of her reflection at the mirrored cabinet door. The redness around her puffy eyes make the blue color pop as she instinctively has to turn around to avoid facing one more failure.
“It's just a phase” - she hears the voices echoing in her head – “it gets better” - they keep promising. But when?  When and how?  How much longer does she have to wait? – “No” - she shakes her head in denial – “No, eight years can't be just a phase!”
Mad at herself for once again allowing her mind to fall this deep she starts to punch the floor ignoring the pain it is causing her and the blood dropping from her knuckles. She feels like screaming but her anal retentiveness doesn’t let go of her not even in the worst moments and though she envies people who can just scream and kick their frustrations away, she has never been able to do it. Instead, she reaches for the towel and stuffs it on her mouth in a desperate attempt to suffocate the screams that she knows won't come out. She bites it hard making the tears roll from her eyes harder and faster.
“Make it stop, please, pretty please just make it stop” - she begs looking up, even if she's not religious and is not sure to whom or what she's praying. Physically exhausted, emotionally drained, she tries to push it away again... the pain she feels inside, the way her heart aches, knowing that the only chance she has to keep herself from drowning is to shove it all away, bury it just like she has been doing for all these years.
“What do you want anyway?” - she asks to the girl in the mirror sitting right across from her – “What do you want?” - she repeats in an hardly audible whisper hoping her reflection comes up with an answer.
Defeated, humiliated and ashamed. Three more emotions she doesn't need to deal with at the moment, three more feelings to add to all the ones that are already weighting on her chest and with whom she has no clue how do deal with.
Her head is about to burst and luckily she’s running out of tears. She pulls her knees up to her chest landing her forehead on them, with her index fingers she presses her temples hard, in tiny circle movements.
“How much longer will I be able to continue with this?”- she asks herself without speaking, and few more tears manage to roll out her already closed eyes – “How much longer will I have to continue with this?”
She's still sobbing, her breath out of pace, but she's calming down. It's all still there, the pain, the fear, the loneliness but she's too tired... too tired of waiting for what's she can't believe is coming anymore, too tired of hopping it will change, too tired of fighting for something she can't see. In vain she tries to take deep breaths. With the right elbow on her knee she supports her head with her palm, as she uses her hand to softly strike her hair. The left arm crosses her body as she uses her thumb to fondle her upper arm. As sad as it is she learned to soothe herself way before...
“C'mon girl, snap out of if” - she demands to herself in the silence of her apartment – “You know better than this, you know...” - she tries, unable to complete the sentence as the reality of knowing that she will never feel the comfort of sharing her pain with someone is too hard to face right now. Uncomfortable and getting physically numb she considers moving but doesn't get around to do it. Beaten, she cries herself to sleep knowing that tomorrow she won't feel any better but that today's breakdown will allow her to fake for a little bit longer.

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