Today I break down. Tomorrow I might once again stand. But today I break down. I don’t care what I should do, or what it looks like from the outside. I want to fall apart. It is my choice to fall apart, and I’m not fighting it. It’s not as if I I’ll never come back. I will. It’s not as if I’ll shatter into too many pieces. I won’t. Today I’ll break down, and tomorrow I’ll glue myself back together.
Today I break down. It’s like I want misery, and I crave the feeling of being completely alone. No one to turn to. No one to ever know that I am hurting. I crave knowing the utter pain and terror of having no one to talk to, no one to turn to, and no one to let in. I’ve made that mistake once, and it never shall be made again.
I want to be numbed. I want to numb myself from everything that I could ever think about, or feel, or hear. I want to stare at a blank wall and be entertained by it’s plainness, it’s simplicity. Nothing sounds more comforting.
I want there to be scars. Yes, there will be scars. There always is. Every time I fall apart something inside breaks that cannot entirely mend. I know that, and yet I let myself break anyway. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to stay strong. I want to internally combust and I do mean internally. The external break down is not my style. Never has been. I won’t externally fight, I don’t want other to know. Yet I won’t stay strong on the inside either because I don’t have to.
So I won’t. I will fall apart, and mend, and then fall apart again. All along knowing that a viscous cycle is all that awaits me. I don’t care because it numbs me. I numbs me from something I’d otherwise have to feel. Something that I’d otherwise have to think about. Blank wall remember? Don’t see, don’t think, don’t feel.
I feel at peace in my brokenness, as if I think being broken is the most serene thing there is. Maybe I’m slowly misplacing my sanity, but of course no one can ever tell how much I had to begin with. It’s amazing how you can pluck yourself from a moment, and stand back, looking at it as if you were never there. Looking at everyone walk by and watch how they never notice. I like that, I like that a lot.
The private mind is my favorite. I thrive in it, I fall in it, and I despair in it. And, sometimes, when I am done with all of that, I think in it. Thinking. Weird. It’s like a story painted behind fogged glass. Sometimes it slips through when the light hits it just right, yet most of the time it is shielded by a pristine and beautiful dew. Sometimes it is created by another’s breath on your window. Sometimes you create it yourself when you lock it and close the shutters.
So yes, today I break down, and I might not mend. I know I have to, but I am choosing not to think about that just yet. I am breaking down, and that is all.
I will be serene, I will be stealth. I won’t let my fog fade, not for even a moment. I never want others to see, for I am the unhurt, the unaltered, and the un-phased. Life does not effect me, that is why I bounce back. Life does effect me though, and that is why I fall apart.
Today, I break down. Maybe I won’t think about tomorrow. Maybe I won’t be strong tomorrow either. Maybe I will stay broken for as a long as it takes to heal this time. But then again, probably not. Then I might never come back. I can’t never come back. I can’t let others know I’m broken, and I can’t let others know that something I feel inside bothers me. I’m the un-bothered, the unbroken, and the untouchable, and that’s how I need to stay on the outside.
But, today, I break down. Silently, secretly. No one will ever know…
***Hey guys! This is another excerpt from the journal short story that I’ve been working on. Hope you all enjoyed it. Feel free to comment with any feedback or advice you guys might have. I always love to hear your suggestions! Thanks for reading.***