What the fuck is going on right now -
you can feel your heart beat quickening,
Very aware that something isn't right because reality feels overwhelming,
Beads of sweat form on your skin as the world around you becomes horrifying,
And your feet start to drag, like they're surrounded in mud and it's thickening.
The pain in your soul intensifying.
Struggling to think straight as the thoughts in your head continue tumbling,
Darkness creeps in from the corners of your eyes, your vision is disappearing,
You scream out in hope of someone to hold you and stop you from falling,
Curl into a ball, remember happiness, as the terror swallows your entire being.
You're defeated, there's no point in crying.
Sometimes, days are a whirlwind,
Of possibilities, exchanges, people's faces.
Silently observing; energy stretched thin,
The sunlight sinks, leaving only traces.
You close your eyes after the day has decided to die down.
The weight of your exhaustion, so heavy, you could drown.
But before you have a chance to embrace the dreams that dangle above your head,
It's another day, and another whirlwind at the foot of your bed.
Everything is changing.
Change is okay.
Everything will be okay.
I'll always love him.
He said "we're different", too different?
Everyone is different.
"Maybe it won't work out", he said.
A wave of numbness swept over my body.
"Yes, of course, I know it might not work out", I smiled.
I want to be close, I want to feel your warmth, I slowly walk to you.
"Do you think we could still be friends?"
I feel sick, no, no, no, no, we can't be friends.
My ears are ringing,
I can't focus my eyes.
"No", I laugh, "I'm too sexually attracted to you".
He smiles. It hurts my heart.
He's so beautiful when he smiles.
I stand, to walk inside - I want him to pull me back, hold me tight, tell me he doesn't want to loose me.
I walk inside. I lock away my pain.
Maybe we are too different.
To the gentleman I love to see,
You never leave my thoughts.
For I am standing still; but you are free,
I doubt I enter your thoughts.
Your past is overwhelming,
The way you casually speak of your stories.
My past is colourless; uninteresting,
I wonder if I will be in any of your memories.
I am continuously scared of refusal,
Love me the way I want you to.
You fuck me like an animal,
But you want nothing more, nothing new.
We shouldn't see each other again,
Doubtful it's healthy for myself.
To be your booty call; it causes me pain,
I adore you, take care of yourself.
I think this will be okay.
I want this work.
I'm actually praying for everything to fall into place.
I don't want to regret this.
I have 7 days.
To pack down my house, my belongings, their belongings.
Is it enough time?
Am I an adult?
Is this what they do?
I still feel like I'm pretending to be mature.
I'm just a small scared child sometimes.
I sense her inside my head, crying for her mum.
Other times I am a powerful goddess, and nobody can stand in my way.
Some times I am the old woman, who's exhausted and just wants to play sudoku.
But most of the time, I am a nurturing mother. My simplest form.
I care so much, about the people around me.
I wonder if I annoy them.
My mind wonders.
James hates it.
I don't finish sentences, I slow my words, I jumble explanations or questions.
My mind is elsewhere so much.
On a beach, drinking fresh coconut.
I'm usually thinking about how much laundry I have to do.
Or what to cook for dinner.
I wonder if anyone will ever read this.
My little note.
I'm moving house.
Nervous. Excited. Worried.
Praying for it to be the right decision.
I will make it the right decision.
You got this, Jaz.