It’s strange how you have this gut feeling in your stomach when you know something’s about to change or end. The wind feels weird and you get these strange insights in your head about possibilities and circumstances where that person is no longer in the picture.
Everything feels dry around them and trying to bring back what was is only a struggle. Nothing feels right anymore and all you want is escape. A time to think. A hopeless feeling at the pit of your stomach.
Somehow a little flame inside insists that you must keep on trying. That maybe something will change for the better. But the more you try to push it, the more it changes for the worst until you’re all dried up inside. You throw your hands to the heavens in exasperation and curl up and wish that you were somewhere else but here. That you can go somewhere, some place to forget. To start anew. To turn a new leaf. To meet new people. Back to square one where no one knows you and you can easily recreate yourself, putting the past behind you. How wonderful and easy if that is financially possible.
I weep for a place I know not. I mourn for a me that would have been born if I had that chance of flying over yonder. My heart grieves for a wonderful future thwarted from me by life, by circumstances, by the merciless barriers of language. How unkind that I get a glimpse of something wonderful only to be taken away from me by the black hands of the inevitable. I wish I could just disappear with that thwarted future, in a place where all broken dreams go.
