What a cliche title.
Somebody's Calling to Me.
What does that even mean?
Hey guys, look, someone's trying to talk to me.

Why does that matter
Why does life matter
Who am I
What am I doing
God, why am I like this

Why can't I recognize that when someone is calling me
I should pick up
Or if someone wants a picture with me
I should join in
Or if someone loves me
I should love them back

How many people have I ruined?
Am I one of those people?
How can I fix it?

There's a beauty in being upset.
Being so full of yourself
And full of your own emotion
That when you look at someone else
You don't see them
You see yourself

Being upset with yourself is selfish.
Time for me to move on. I have someone to care for.

I was out back fishing, in a pond behind my parents' house.
I caught a fish, a sizeable one for the location, and you were on my mind.
I brought it home, to our apartment, and kept it in a freezer in our tiny bedroom.
We kissed, and I felt apart of you.

It was our plan to have a family gathering, in the downstairs area of our affordable home.
Around 50 people or so.
It would be a tight fit, but we knew what we wanted.
The morning of the reunion, I returned to my parents' home and fished, this time with a couple of people I can't remember.

I kept imagining you speaking to me, about killing yourself.
I knew this was irrational, you'd never do that to me.
I tried another pond this time, and caught the biggest fish I'd ever caught there.
I took it home, you on my mind, thinking about how impressed you'd be.

I was late, arrived just as people were showing up.
I greeted everyone, had some laughs, and went back out to get the fish from the car.
Time slowed as I opened the door to our once joyful bedroom.
Years could've gone by, decades maybe.
I can't explain how I felt.
That moment when you feel your heart stop, almost as if you should die, but don't.

There, my love, my heart, my only care in the world, lay in the corner, lifeless.
I didn't see how you did it.
I didn't care.
I couldn't move.

I had to go downstairs, and somehow, using my last bit of breath, screamed that you'd died.

It was so surreal.
It was so... real.
The tears, this horrible feeling in my chest, as though my heart was too dead to beat.

Some time later, I argued with you.
I walked around my parents' neighborhood, like we used to do when we were kids.
You were there, walking along with me. I couldn't see you, but I could feel you.
And I could hear you.

I asked why, so many times.
You kept giving me reason after reason, and I kept arguing every single claim you gave me.
I've never felt anything like that before.
I've never been so lost for words when explaining emotion.
I think it was something new.

I felt like I was dead. It felt like you were alive.

Then you said you loved me.
The words rang through my mind, playing over and over again.
I love you, **.
I... I love you, *.

And you were gone.
And I screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

And then I woke up.
15 again.
I rolled over, checked my phone:
Eve - Good morning dear

And I've never been so relieved.

The life of dust
Doesn't seem like much
But you will never see more
than a single particle.

Floating softly through the wind
It sees all
The wonder and miracles,
The hatred and fear,
It sees more
Than the all seeing eye

However still,
No one will say
That they want to be
A particle of dust.

I am seen,
As no one
But today
I show myself
and all around
Nobodies can be heroes
just as well,
for nobodies
have less to live for.