because I'd rather die than lose my mind

I wind up here. Again.

Solace cannot be found in downloads, in music, in facebook statuses accumulated over a mere measure of hours. It simply cannot be found anywhere when you want it all to be over. When you're like me and the days drag on, the weeks, the months, and only six months go by in the span of a lifetime. When every week brings a new surprise and much more desire.

Desire to exit, desire to have, desire to become. To exit this monotony, this yellow-taped hole that is disregarded and ignored until you fall in. To exit the prison of work, of repetition, of apathy. To have something to hold on to in desperation when everything seems to string along in one line of vague emptiness. To have a hope, to have sincere joy, to have life breathing into you. To become someone you've always wanted to be, without changing who you already are. To become the one they talk about, the one recognized after only one meeting, the one that attracts.

I feel caught in an overwhelming bubble of apathy. School? Sleep? Acting? Don't care anymore. I don't need any of them. My homework sits, piling up in corners, piling up in my mind, piling up on the pages of my agenda. Untouched. Unwelcome. Uninviting.

Hyperacitivity, laughter and love. The only things that matter. When I fall asleep, the burden of work, of deadlines press on me for a second, no more. I don't want to care anymore. Instead, my thoughts stray to everything else. Immediately after school I care about rest, about music, and about nothing. I can't admit to the things that keep me up at night nor can I admit to the things that keep me distracted and apathetic.

I can't allow myself to admit.

I've let myself get pulled in. Trapped. So in love that I've become in love with the idea of it all and hold in what's really there. So in love that I won't let myself be scared, won't let myself cry or fight or say no.

The person who lies on a bed in the afternoons, laptop on hand and pillow near? Here. The person who moved about, talked, made jokes? Gone. Invisible. I don't know what happened to the me that could tell him everything, that could spend hours talking to anyone and everyone, that felt young and passionate.

What do you say when I love you is no longer enough? What about when a simple gesture is more than anything else because the grand gestures feel less honest? Why can something that means so much all of a sudden take a back burner to a desire to have nothing to do anymore, to just have the free time to breathe, knowing you don't have something waiting for you to accomplish?

I walk around, smiling, happy, content. Really I'm just fine. I can convince myself more than anyone else that nothing is wrong. But honestly? That's the only place my heart and energy go anymore.

Heather

I'd rather fall asleep alone than wake up with you gone