the fog lifted in increments, but it had been so thick that every time felt like it must be the final one. i could see clearly, see things i hadn't seen in months — old terrain, finally unveiled again. but every time, something new would appear a few weeks or days or months later, and i would realize that i hadn't yet had the full picture...and the cycle repeated without pause.
it was like awakening from a deep sleep. slowly, i began to recognize the pieces of myself that had been buried and unconscious, caught in dreams of REM hell. i finally saw the illusions for what they were, and reality started to seep back into sight. it was like you had just been an elaborate lie, a half-truth, a wraith, a spirit, and you had slipped back into the ether where you belonged — and the ether slipped away from me, too, leaving me back among the living.
you still carried that fog in your wake. when you walked by, when you entered the room, when i heard your voice — it would creep back in, swirling around my ankles — but it burned away more quickly each time.
and maybe one day, it won't linger at all.
YOU ARE READING
(everything) you left.
Short Storya slow descent into insanity. i'm going to be honest. i don't entirely know what this is. but if you're up for short "chapters," questionable metaphors and yet another round of personifying mental illnesses into the people who triggered them, come o...
