It began slow, and then it was storm. Whirring and whispering.

Tearing her apart limb from limb, ripping her soul to shreds, and painting her world a deep shade of
a color; nameless, but seething sorrow.
She
was
in
pieces.

Thoughts raced through her mind, and yet she was thinking of nothing.
Emotions formed an aura that glistened like the dark of night, and yet she was rendered
emotionless.
Grief and guilt became her, but she still stood her ground.
She was angry, sad, guilty, crazy, unpredictable and helpless.
She was a compilation of symptoms that would eventually pave way not for an illness or a diagnosis,
but for hope.
She wasn’t a person that needed to be fixed. She was a person that needed to be rescued.

Her loss was now marked with ugly scars that protected her heart and her head, out in the open for
everyone to see.
She could either shy away from what’s to come and focus on the past, or she could embrace it and
move on.
She chose the latter.
Out in the rain, it’s easy to imagine all your sins being washed away with the downpour. It’s easy to
imagine that you can hand over all your responsibilities to the water, making it cleanse you of all
your sorrows and guilt. It’s also easy to imagine that you can push all your troubles deep down into
the ground, where it would stay trapped under the weight of the water that seeps through the
layers to give that part of you company, that no one else could.
Because that is all you can do,
Imagine.
She belonged to the sun, the stars, and the sea. She belonged to space, to gravity, and to friction.
She belonged to the light, the dark, and the colors. She belonged to the universe. She belonged to
everyone,
Until she belonged to no one at all.

She belonged,
but she didn’t.

The water seeped through her clothes, flowed through her veins and lit her up. Before she
realized it, she was running. Running away from the truth, the lies and the sympathy. Away
from reality. Away from life.
The fire in her lungs began to work it’s way outward, blazing colors that burned inside her. It flowed
to her fingertips, her toes, her body. She was scorched beyond repair. She was raw. She was in pain.

But the rain didn’t help her this time.

For she was also beautiful.

No, she wasn’t upset or sad… she was angry. Angry at herself for being so helpless, angry at them
for not understanding, angry at him for leaving her all alone, angry at everyone who wasn’t her for
being that way, angry at the sun, the stars, the sky, the colors and the rain for being unable to calm
her down or free her from her guilt like they once used to. She needed someone; something to
blame.

The music ringing in her ears did nothing to shut out the voices.

Even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying, she reached over the side of the bed to
her bag and pulled out a pair of earphones. She plugged them in and laid back down.

And then, she turned up the volume. All the way up.

Suffocating. That’s what it is. Walls closing in on you from every possible side. Your only way out
being the light coming in from above. But you can’t get out, can you? Because you can’t fly.
Not yet. They’re still growing. His words. Each new one a feather in your wings of flight. He’s
here to lift you up. Save you when there’s nowhere else to go. Only if you let him. Let go of
your fears and do what you want him to do. Let him lead you to the light. Let him hold your
hand and guide you to it. Let him save you. Because even though you don’t show it, deep
down, you WANT to be saved. Be there for each other. Save each other from the pain that’s
called reality. Hold each other when it all comes crumbling down. Let him lift you up. Up until
you’re flying. Until you reach limits you never knew were within reach. Until you’re
unreachable. Until you’re invincible. Until you’re supernova. Because you need to blaze. You
need to burn. You need to be the flame that lights up the sky. You need to be the very thing
that destroys creation. You need to be. You need to be. You need to be. It’s alright if you
don’t. But you have to be. You have to be. You have to be. Be exactly what they need you to
be one last time. Do exactly what they need you to do one last time. Say exactly what they
need you to say one last time. Because the taste of freedom is like a drug to mankind. The
vision of a free future an aphrodisiac. Once you’re hooked, there’s no letting go.
Ever thought about what it must feel like to just give up?

To stop trying?

To stop caring?

To stop.

Leave it all behind. The frustration, the pain, the guilt, the helplessness, the urge, the addiction.

Fuck it up. Once and for all. Hand over your problems. Be selfish. Let them feel the pain instead.
Once you’re gone. Let them reap. Let them realize. Let them rewind. Let them regret.

He makes you feel things. Feelings that you can’t explain. Feelings that you don’t feel privileged
enough to name. Thoughts that you’re too terrified to state. But THINK. The insecurity, the
fear, the doubt. Are those what’s holding you back from cherishing this feeling to it’s full
potential?

Or is it just easier to blame a non-materialistic ringing in your head?

It’s like he’s in your head. It’s like he sees what you see, he hears what you hear, he feels what you
feel. It’s this very biblical bond that might be the cause of your ruin one day. You’re sure of
it. Yet, you don’t want to severe it however gently it could be done. You WANT this
connection. If this is the very thing that will one day render you incapable of life, so be it;
because now that you’re hooked, there’s no letting go.

They’re wrong about all of it. The first rain doesn’t reward a drought. It leaves them wanting for
more. Clouds don’t have silver linings, they’re hollow, cold and deadly. There was never a
pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, because rainbows don’t end. Watching the grey ashes
being swept away with the river water doesn’t give you any less comfort than it does to the
soul who never demanded to be departed.