I just realized today that some days are a battle, a relentless on slaught of what my life is versus what everything could have been. I fear that one of my destinations would have been in a cold box six feet below everyone else that I loved and cared about but I went through a reality much worse. It was like dying except I was breathing through it all, I was alone when the days got longer and the nights were hotter, I was faced with every dark thing inside of my self and I felt my foundation faulter. I fear the day it all breaks down and a soul little squid is left in the rubble, crying, breathing, I fear it wont have the strength to start over. I have heard that I was strong for being myself, that my life is something that I shouldn't be complaining because I'm here. You're right, I am here, a broken bruised shell of the person I was. Once so full of wonder, holding a sliver of the childhood I never got to have. I'm just curious if there's anything remarkable about this new me, or if the old me is missed. Are there any changes?? I can't tell anymore. I feel sanity slowly slipping away, constantly wondering if my life would've been better if I stayed in my situation, if I stayed fearing physical pain, if I stayed where I got fire crackers thrown at me because I was "too up tight" and expected to smile, where I had my senior year book thrown at me twice, called every name under the sun, and smacked, I went to my "safe haven" with a slight black eye for three weeks and no one noticed, no one cared and shortly my life at my only safe haven caught flames and spontaneously combusted. My life.. what to do with such a jumbled thing. Can I begin to make it anything of wonder?
