i always feel like unfinished business. it does not matter in which aspect of my life there's emptiness. though recently, there has been an abyss threatening to swallow me up. i am merely sleepwalking through life, turning where i'm told to, letting my muscle memory lead me towards all too familiar places. i am living, but i am not alive. i do not hold that same aspired grin anymore. i do not talk to my friends about the simple joys, because the memory of them don't stick. all of the tranquil passing thoughts are easily overruled by complex negativity. there could be nothing necessarily "wrong", but the anxiety of a single fabric out of place is enough to drag me down into this same thinking pattern. on a beach in the middle of nowhere, dreading returning to my daily lifestyle. how could that be? i am supposed to be at peace, and overjoyed to be going home to my loving boyfriend and the job that i love. all i feel is disdain. reluctance to be in my house that feels all too small for me now, grudging to tell my boyfriend that i fell out of love with him, and coy to the idea of sitting at my lonely cubicle with people that have never felt inclined to make me feel included. i am not a pessimist, simply just my own worst enemy. if the world crumbled around us at this moment, what would i have to say about myself? what would i have proved? who would i run to? how would i spend my last couple of hours on this planet that i have felt restricted to? would i just sit and experience this same thought process all over again?
