There is a future without you
One day there will be an ‘after you were here’
Until then I will enjoy our time
But it will not last
All we have
is just a moment
One moment of borrowed time
that we must give back at the end of our grand adventure
Don’t let me disappear even on those nights when your eyes have prettier things to focus on
Don’t let me talk my way out of promises I always knew I’d break
Don’t treat me like glass even though you know I will shatter
Everything hurts because everything is slicing me in half
All of those words
And even those disapproving glares
They are all leaving marks and causing me pain
And they want me to push through it
Bandage the cuts up
Ignore that they are there
But all I want to do is curl up and hide…
Please don’t let me disappear
I’m hoping there is somebody out there that would notice if I were gone
Somebody out there that wants to keep me around
For the past four months or so I’ve been working on a web series one of my best friends created. Because of it I’ve met so many incredibly talented artists, musicians, actors, and fellow writers. I’m so proud to be a part of it and if anyone out there is looking to join in the festivities here’s what we are looking for:
I hate the fair.
I hate crowds of people and I hate that parents let their demon spawn run around unattended, bumping into strangers without mumbling so much as an “oops, sorry”.
I hate being forced by my brother to stand in line to get on a ride that I can’t remember if I like or not. I hate the queasiness that follows due to my medication.
I hate that I actually have a lot of fun on those rides and enjoy the disgusting fried foods and stupid games I never win.
One thing I love though?
The main reason why I push through my anxiety and grumpiness:
My brothers favorite ride is the swings. I watch, every year, at every fair, as he stands in line alone, awkwardly sits himself in a swing and buckles up. The ride starts swinging around slowly, picks up momentum and in just a few seconds he’s up in the air. He stretches his arms out like they’re his wings. He pushes his face up to the sky, letting it take him away and the smile never leaves his face.
I get to see the epitome of freedom, happiness, and beauty once a year at those stupid fairs. It’s always a hassle to get me there. I never want to go but, afterwards, once I’m back home I’m always really grateful I went.
I wasn’t expecting to feel this sad.