I can't breathe. The fact that air is coming in and out doesn't mean I am. I’m physically breathing, yes. I am physically alive, yes. But the real question here, does it feel like so?
I’ve been living with this ache for a while now, time by time the pain grows bigger and bigger. Every single day it eats up a part of me, it engulfs a portion of my soul. I can’t stop it and I don’t understand where it came from, it’s unexplainable. The harder I try to breathe, the harder it gets; oxygen just feels toxic. The harder I try to overcome it and the harder I try to get back on my feet, it comes back for me to knock me down. I try to make use of the negative energy thrown at me, I try to make hatred be my incentive to move forward, my power boost, but it just doesn't work. It keeps haunting me down instead. I have no capacity for anything or anyone, it left me drained and consumed. I have no more energy left to fight, I don’t really care anymore. Even though it hurts me to end up on my own, it’s much better than being judged by the ones I loved the most. Those I gave everything, they just didn’t understand, they won’t understand. I’m not asking them to, but at least they would’ve given me some time, I wish they never abused me. Abuse came in many different forms I wish I never got to experience. I wish they never judged me, I wish they never took me for granted. I wish they never used me and I wish they never left me by my own when I pushed everyone else away. I wish they supported me instead of neglecting my tiny little achievements. I wish they encouraged me and told me how worthy I am. I wish they hugged me whenever I needed a comfort hug. I wish they stayed whenever I needed company. I wish they bothered to call.
But not everything we ask for comes true.
