I tell them I'm fine. I stick a fake smile on my face and keep my head up. But really, I'm not. I'm breaking down. Every part of me is slowly ripping apart while I just sit here and let it happen. I am a shell. I have no insides. Why do I refuse to rescue myself from the insanity of this life? I remain here like a firefighter with no hose watching a house turn to ash. This is my comfort zone. Am I afraid of being happy? Am I truly scared of what will happen when I let my emotions run freely?
June 18, 2013