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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/808349
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Emotional · #808349
A freewrite about feeling rotten.
I wish some could know the joy of
lying prone in the middle of your bedroom floor with your favorite song on high volume and just feeling the sounds vibrate in the floor and in your fingers and your skin and your heart
sitting in silence close to someone and not speak, not tapping feet, just share space and the television that you are watching together
driving with a full gas tank early in the morning when it's still dark outside and nothing exists save for the indigo sky, the radio, and the occasional pair of headlights
something as simple as being yourself.

And forgetting

that the human condition is failing fast
that sometimes friends don't know to do things like call on the weekends, or pick you up when you've sunk so low that you cry yourself to sleep every night
that the warm breath of another living, breathing human being who cares just as much about you as you do them
and you care about them with the intensity of an infinite, equal number of warm breaths on your shoulder
is a rare thing nowadays

Forgetting that death is inevitible for things with heartbeats
Forgetting the feeling of not belonging anywhere
the feeling of being alone and so surrounded at the same time
the fresh tears that ran down a face just yesterday
Forgetting the face of the girl that doesn't love the boy that called on the weekends just to talk about scores and wasted little pecks on the cheek, that never counted as a first kiss
she doesn't love the paper where stupid, black words are scrawled and then violently destroyed with a rip and a toss to the wastebasket,
she doesn't like the boy that she went to the movies with
as much as she loves someone that she will never have back
She gives a part of herself to the people that she loves
tears a bit of her own self and gives it to them to build them up

Forgetting that the truth doesn't set you free: it eats you alive inside until a gigantic implosion occurs and everything is left to be reborn of the ashes, only to die again like everyone does in the end
and you can't talk to anyone anymore, not even your best friend because she's not there
Forgetting that right now, your favorite person is the one who asks if you want to be partners for a class project and doesn't shrink away when you sit next to them in class.

For now the best thing to do is to just look up at the stars
each individual, morning, speck that fades with the light on the drive back
and pay attention to the way that it blends into the electrical lights of the car
because you'll never want to remember all of this.




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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/808349