Why did you stop breathing,
When I wanted you to have so many more breaths?
Why did you leave this world,
When there was so much experience within it that you had left?
Why do I have to live without you now,
When we got no time at all?
Why does it have to be so unfair?
Why can’t you come back once, or a thousand hundred times more?

Why did you die first,
When I am so much older?
Why couldn’t anyone do anything enough to save you?
Why did no one’s efforts work?
Why did you go from being healthy,
To unresuscitationable?

Why am I stuck here now,
Without ever being able to see you again?
What do you think about and do in heaven?
Do you think about me at all?

I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough.
If I could have had a second chance,
I’d do it all so much better.
I miss you more than you could know,
I love you and I never wanted to let you go.

Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,

Hi again, it’s been a long time
You have and haven’t been here,
But I kind of thought you’d died.
Well no, how could I ever think that?
Don’t you think I always knew you were there?
It was extremely weird though:
You let me have things.

I walked into shops and I
Spoke to people.
At the beginning of your holiday,
I was sitting in class and trying to bring you back.
When everyone ditches you and even your social anxiety finally does.
I mean wow though, I was walking around and
You weren’t gripping my body,
I just did stuff, knowing that you shouldn’t let me.

Don’t worry, I knew there were still things that you wouldn’t let me do,
I couldn’t get a job like a normal person,
Even though I needed to.
I feel like it sounds stupid though, when I try to explain how far away you are,
Barely there, basically not,
Yet there’s still things I can’t do because you’re not that gone.

So you were really there the whole time,
But it was just so great,
Except from everyone else ruining things.
Social anxiety though? Good; it may as well have been gone.
It still feels like a lie writing this,
Because there’s no way you eased off for basically two years.
That is not a thing.

Now that I know I definitely had some sort of anxiety attack,
I don’t know, I think I’m calm again now
Just don’t think about it, just don’t think about it.
I’ve been reading a story I wrote when you were still wild every day,
I already knew you were more present,
But I found it crazy because I read what I wrote and actually thought:
I don’t even do this anymore.
But I guess I’m home now, in you.

People will read this and think that’s great
(and it is astounding, I’d never believe you),
But I don’t think I feel anything.
Do I get my excuses back now?
Can I use them again?
I have social anxiety, LET ME STAY INSIDE,
Now maybe it won’t be about me being normal like other people,
Because now I’ll know you’re here.

Whereas before it would be like “really, you can’t? I think you can, why not?”
No, wrong topic Chloe,
That’s what people say about your physical health.
And you managed to not come back throughout all that?
No one believed me, but I still don’t think you were there.
I tried so hard to politely prove them they were lying.
I told them how I’m great without you,
But no one ever listens
And now I’m reminded of the things I stupidly said,
So lets just tie all my problems together
And I’ll just go daydream until death again.

Fear of them, I fear them,
No not men, just the idea of them,
Actually no, the idea I quite like;
It’s the non-real reality that scares me,
Terrorises me just a little if I stop to think.
No it’s not men, it’s just people.
Maybe it’s all just my social anxiety,
Talking to me again in a slightly different way,
I mean, I know anxiety can change but it doesn’t, not for me:
I know me,
I just don’t know what I’m scared of really.

I can’t believe I dare to write this,
Go away Chloe, just shut yourself up inside again,
Then you won’t have to think about anyone.
Well that’s a lie, I think about people all of the time;
The people I could have, the people I won’t, people I wish existed but I sadly know never will
(I convince myself they will anyway),
And when they’re not real, I’m not afraid -
Because I’m not afraid,
I started this all up as a game.
Did someone ever tell you, you should never read lists of phobias you know you don’t have?
Well I’m telling you, don’t. You might get some.

But do you ever daydream of your perfect soul mate?
Because then I think of guys, like: real guys that actually do exist
And then I’m just like no, no I’ll stay away,
Not today, not tomorrow, I’m not ready.
Then I realise I’ll never be ready.
I’ve noted the slow progression of “could you really be scared of that Chloe? Sounds pretty stupid.”
So I’m like no, no I can’t be,
And then I get these little feelings sometimes,
Which makes me kind of go, “really are you?”
But I’m not because:
That wouldn’t make sense
And
People who know nothing on the internet say that’s sexist without knowing what they mean.
If someone actually had a phobia of the opposite *** or gender it wouldn’t be their fault, because it’s a ****** phobia.

I don’t have phobias though, not one.
Maybe social anxiety, maybe another one, maybe I’m getting one more,
But really I must just be exaggerating.
I know it’s not a phobia - that’s not what I’m claiming,
But when I imagine having a reality where...
Well it just kind of scares me.