Coming home to an empty and dark house—
It's cold but not unpleasant.
The cool tiles soothe your feet,
Aching from supporting the weight of bottled up thoughts the whole week.
Responsibilities loom in the background and you know it,
But the exhaustion is heaving on your hands.
You're ready to fill the house with a dimly lit light,
A mug of cold milk,
And some indie song of a band you've never heard of
Playing quietly in the background.
It smells like them, the memory of them.
You're alone tonight.
The notes slowly lull you into thoughts and feelings—
About what you were,
What it could've been,
What you did wrong,
What can and can't be fixed.
You think about life.
You think about change.
You think about love.
You think about depression.
You think about mistakes.
You think about the future.
You think about happiness.
As if the melody was meant for it.
You think about life.
You're so mad at it.
Why did I,
As someone who was once a child,
Have to go through all of that?
But you have to forgive it.
You can't give up.
Don't let it beat you down.
But I won't deny, the idea is tempting.
You think about change.
How you changed—
How the people around you reacted to it.
Did they change too?
Did they stay the same?
Did they leave,
Too afraid to see you morph into a new person?
Do you like who you became?
You can't know.
You think about love.
Will I ever be loved? you wonder.
Yes, I will, because I like to make myself feel better.
Too many people on this planet, there must be someone.
But will I ever meet them?
Will there be enough time?
You're too busy focusing on distractions to care.
You think about depression.
You're still here.
It was essential.
It made you a stronger version.
But was it necessary?
It destroyed you.
A part of you remains dead.
You think about mistakes.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
You mutter out a curse,
As the visceral sense of failure and frustration fill your stomach.
You feel anger rising up your throat,
And it stings.
But slowly, you start to see a pattern.
You understand.
No more mistakes.
But was that time, trying and failing, wasted?
Anyone could've gotten it at the first try.
The anger leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.
You think about the future.
Your idea of it changed so many times, growing up—
Fitting your current ideals every time.
But you're also scared.
You don't want it to come.
Can it be stopped?
Time is ticking endlessly,
And you feel that sense of doom
Breathing down your neck
And putting its full weight on your stomach
The more you think about it.
You think about happiness.
Laughing until your stomach hurts with your friends.
That strange feeling where you realize
Everything's gonna be okay
And it fills you with warmth.
Spending time with your family,
The smell of dinner lingering in the background—
Everything feels warm and small and safe.
You always want to be happy.
But would happiness exist without sadness?
There's no up without down.
You were happy.
But you were oblivious;
It could've been better,
But you grew and learned;
You did something terribly wrong.
But you regret it now, which means you understood;
You think you can fix others.
But you can't fix yourself.
Why do you do this?
You were never meant to try in the first place.
Do yourself a favor tonight.
Have a warm shower.
Drink some milk.
Put some indie music.
But do not, under any circumstances,
Think about life.
It has no sense anyway.
Don't try putting binaries on it.
They're never gonna fit.
Just live.
That's enough.
Let that be. Just tonight.
I had no idea where I was going with this at first... But I like how it came out.
