It’s all false.
False happiness, false hope, false love, false security, false emotions.
I get nothing but forced emotions. I can tell. It’s written all over their faces; the ‘I hope you’re okay, and the ‘I love….’.
I’m living in a world of empty words, unfinished sentences and broken promises. I’m waiting for something better. I’m waiting for a peace I fear I will never find, for, as long as I’m living, these demons I will have to face. Everyday.
It’s lonely
I sit here and all I can think is, would anyone really miss me if I were gone? Would it even have an impact? Sure there are people who probably care about me, but I fail to see how it would change their lives.
Yet still, I yearn for it, each night I lay in bed and I fantasize about it. I wonder how painful it would be as my heart races desperately trying to keep my unwilling body alive, I think about the fear that will set in as I feel the burning heat of my organs overworking and then shutting down one by one. I would panic, ‘Why have I done this‽’ and then I will remember the emptiness that filled me before, and I will decide, that I prefer this pain. At this point I imagine I will try to relax into it, knowing some feeling is better than the neutrality I tried to fill myself with in living days, and as death takes hold I will welcome it with open arms and I will beg of it, ‘Release me from this burden’.
Every night I dream of it, and every night I know I am not brave enough to make it happen.