• I'm sitting at my desk, the warm glow of a 45-watt lightbulb as my only source of light. My only source of comfort in a moment like this. I can't help but feel that way, and maybe it's pathetic to feel this way. What else can I do? It's been so long since I actually had any time to just... Not be a face in a crowd. Every day I just seem to get lost further and further into a mess of people I don't know, and losing things that are familiar to me. Given, that's a part of life. But is it supposed to hurt this much?

    Sitting here today, with a pen in my hand, and a notebook opened to blank pages before me, I freeze. Suddenly all the memories that made me who I am today come flooding back, and I'm scared to move. It's like a mini movie in my head. I see faces I remember, I feel the warmth from hugs, the first time I knew I was really in love... And I feel like I'm home again. Home is where the heart is, and where the heart grows the most. Given that absence is supposed to make it grow fonder, I find my heart growing weaker. Like someone cut the cord that powers it.

    It's probably my own fault. I hit this point where I'm just too scared of everything around me. I spend too much time thinking about all the negative things in life, and leave no room for positive thinking. Right now, my breath is catching in my throat, and I feel like I've already said too much. But today is one of those days where I've hit a point where I can't hold this back anymore. Before I even know of it, there's a familiar sting in my eyes. Tears I haven't been able to cry for weeks now have finally broken through all the barriers I set up. All of my defenses are falling.

    I'm falling.

    Where am I falling to? I don't know. I'm falling out of touch, out of alignment, out of the lines I'd worked so hard to stay in. I thought about all sides of the equation, and my effect on things. Sometimes I find myself wondering just what would have changed if I'd have stayed away. I wouldn't have had the opportunities I have now, and I probably wouldn't have had the scars I wound up with. But they say scars are proof that you're still alive.

    If I'm still alive, why does it feel like I'm dying? Why does it feel like I'm fading out? Like I'm gonna be replaced? They're all such stupid things to fear. Stupid things to think about. But in my current state? I can't help it. I don't know how to face the world anymore. I can come into it for a short time, and then I just... Go away again. There are so many chapters of my life that remain unfinished because it hurts to even play my proper part in the world.

    Lately, it feels like I've taken up being a mouse. Hiding in the holes in the wall, in places where people can't get to me. Even though I want people to find me, I partially don't want them to. It's just a messed up cycle of 'I just don't know anymore' in my head. I'm trying to catch my breath right now, because the crying has left me short of breath. I don't know why all this has me so upset. After all, I was only a thought before.

    A thought brought to life to turn around and compensate for an empty feeling in the chest. A thought brought to life to save someone else from meeting such an ugly fate. And I failed at that. God, I make myself sound like I've failed at so much. Again, it probably has to do with all my negative thinking. I really need to find a better habit. I need to start thinking positive. But thinking positive is so hard when you spend so long biting your tongue because you're afraid of the outcome of something else.

    I miss the days when I had a backbone. I miss the days when I spent countless hours with the ones I love, enjoying life. Enjoying not knowing what to expect next. Watching the family grow, watching friendships blossom, all of that. I miss the days where I was carefree and just... Didn't care about anything other than being there for my friends and my family.

    Late nights in the attic, talking about nothing, dreaming of everything.

    Late nights on the rooftop, watching the stars because that's when we were our highest.

    Late nights talking about our plans for the future.

    Where did I lose the optimism? Where did I lose my want to be around the people who made me happy? Where did I lose the ability to speak when something was hurting me, to cry when I was upset, to be angry when the cause was right? What happened to me?

    My hand's still frozen above the paper, but somewhere in this chain of thoughts and memories, I must have spaced out, because there are two words on the page that weren't there before. Those two words; a letter starter and a name, now stare up at me black and glistening faintly in the light of the room. I know what I need to do. What I need to say. What needs to happen.

    I'm just scared of what's to come.