He was right when he said that there’s a dark place inside of me. There really is. And I’m afraid it will never go away. This place is completely touched by darkness. Even the shadows have shadows. It intimidates the sun and welcomes storms. And there’s an awful creature who lives in that darkness. It lurks there, waiting to attack. Never does it bite me when I’m down. No, it waits until I’m so utterly happy and complete and whole. Then, and only then, does it strike. It strikes me in the worst ways, knocking me down in to that dark place. The shadows welcome me. They wrap themselves around me in mock comfort. They feel so cold, but so does my heart and soul at this point. So I let the shadows whisper their condolences and follow them deeper in to that dark place. It’s more of a void, really. The shadows become my friends. They’re horrible to me, but at least they keep me company. And that’s close enough to friendship. I grow dependent on the shadows and the darkness and the void. But eventually, even the shadows abandon me and I’m left in the void, completely alone. Although, by this point, I’m so numb from all the cold that I don’t care. This void becomes my home. How do I crawl out of this place? How will my eyes adjust?