Sometimes, I dream about breathing. One minute, my breath is so light I’m flying, running as if there is no resistance and as if I can actually run in the first place. The next, I’m lost. Breath does not come easily and I feel as if I’m continually falling towards something but I couldn’t tell you what that something is. Thats how I feel around you. Constantly striving to meet your standards an expectations and when I fall short, I just fall. Down, down, the rabbit hole to an unknown probably not-so-wonderland place. But you don’t care. In fact you would have probably pushed me there yourself if I hadn’t so willingly jumped down just to get away from you and your expectations and confrontations. I’m sorry I’m so introverted and can’t successfully have those conversations because sometimes my voice fails me. You may not hear it, but its piercing screams are berating me about my inability to speak in the first place. So I write. I write and I write and I write until all of the negative energy expels from my body and I am weak from the effort.

Do not take my writing for weakness. My writing is everything that my brain has been urging me to say since day 1. My writing is the only way to get you to hear me. So listen.


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