Resistance is almost impossible as i fight the urge to crawl into a corner and cry my eyes out. A slow scroll through my phone book and you realise everyone’s at work, either that or you just don’t feel like seeing the rest. Nothing’s wrong, nothings happened but sometimes we wake up feeling like life just doesn’t seem worth it.
The sky is a beautiful pale blue today and the clouds a lovely cotton white. Staring at it, I feel myself drown and more than anything I want to float on by stripped of everything in a chlorinated pool of crystal clear water.
A stack of books lay piled up on the cold marble table; is it even marble? Im not really sure. It sits there taunting you, smirking at the lack of concentration and determination you seem to emanate. It laughs at you as the hands of time continue to tick on by, never once stopping or even taking a break.
I know that I should be sitting there buried in my text books, forgetting all else but that artificial world of so called intellect. Yet here I sit in front of a tv screen much too big for an ordinary monitor listening to songs that have an amazing ability to sound cheerful when you’re happy and sickeningly depressing when you’re not.
This is suppose to be my comfort house.
So why is it I sit here crying wishing you were here holding me instead?
This thing, this disgusting thing called attachment breaks me much deeper than I could ever have even begun to expect.
I miss you.
I really really do.
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