Solitude
I’m scared to death of what they would think of me if they knew what I feel, if they knew how I feel, if they knew that sometimes I can’t feel anything at all, that sometimes I feel too much and that I can't take it anymore.
If they knew how close to the edge I am, flirting with the ledge of a life that is not mine and of a person I can’t seem to recognize in the mirror. I am nothing but a convulsion of feelings too close to the edge. I've been pretending to be fine for so long that sometimes I've even fooled myself. I don't know how to ask for help without worrying everyone I love. In the end I know that this too shall pass and I will slowly float back to what feels like normal, and I will once more put on the perfect mask I've so carefully put together.
I know that I will be ok until the next time loneliness lifts her head to greet me. It's just me and her. She holds my hand and takes me away from everything I know.
