Why do I long for what ive never had? Why am I constantly recalling "memories" of which I have never been a part of?
How can these memories feel so real? I was never there, but I can feel like I was. I can smell the breeze, feel as though the blades of grass are gently brushing my palms, feel the light gracing my skin.
How can I insert my being into these obscure false memories of comfort? Even if these memories seem traumatizing, even if they seem confusing, I still yearn to be in them.
Why do I find comfort in the unsettling? Somehow my breath can feel so heavy, yet my mind rests easy. Something that can hurt so bad, can be so healing to me.
Empty space feels so welcoming. My bones are cold, yet I feel so warm.
The embrace of people who dont even exist. The embrace of people who arent even people. It rivals anything that anyone in this world has ever made me feel.