And then it comes,
The wave.
I can’t function.
Im gripping the meatal railing of the roller coaster tightly,
the one that the attendant instructed us to hold just before activating the ride.
Nothing changes, as if life has frozeen in a singular moment of fear.
An endless free fall
Thoughts of redemption
through death.
My hands are sweating on the metal railing.
“It will end soon, it will end soon”
I tell myself,
while everyone around is screams and shrieks with joy.
My mother was diagnosed with cancer when I was nine. She fought through three rounds of the disease until the last one, when she finally raised her hands in surrender, allowing it to consume her—slowly—until it carried her beyond existence. From my perspective, this timeline began when I was nine
Imagine a situation where being with yourself is an unbearable experience,but not as unbearable as being in the company of anyone else.It’s like being a fish allergic to water,or a leaf allergic to the tree,or a wave allergic to the sea,or a ray of sunlight allergic to the sky,or simply
Maybe,just maybe,it’s meI’ve been waiting for. To stop trying to understandand start to feel.To stop offering meall kinds of wise and beautiful advicedisconnected from the realityof what I’ve been through,what I’m going through. The one who will simply listen—to the pain,to the struggle,to the tears that sometimes just won’t stop—without
