prose

out of my control

no matter how violently and aggressively you push at it and pick at it, it doesnt budge because, lets face it, the methods you use(d) to attempt to move it only feeds its hunger to consume you. but lets try it again anyways.

first attempt: listen to calming, soothing music. because thats always supposed to help right? no, it doesnt. what the fuck do you think youre doing? thats only another distraction, dumbass.

second attempt: reason with yourself. they fell asleep. theyre studying. theyre watching sports or youtube videos. they left their phone somewhere. they actually forgot. they honestly dont care. theyre tired of your constant texting. theyre tired of you. that didnt help at all.

third attempt: write it out. spill out your damn guts. dont give any fucks for grammar and punctuation. elaborate on every laughable detail despite the fact that it is (annoyingly enough) quite vague to begin with so you cant really explain yourself well. no help there.

fourth attempt: reach out to someone…maybe even them. type out long paragraphs to everyone you still believe cares about you – oh wait, no one is actually ever available to comfort you so youre really, ultimately alone in this.

fifth attempt: listen to calming, soothing music. a song finally pops up that makes you feel a little more whole again.

sixth attempt: reason with yourself. remember what the therapist said about saying “maybe…or maybe not” and allow yourself to let it go.

seventh attempt: write it out. look over the nonsensical, horrifying thoughts you bled onto the paper. realize how you would never follow through with what you said because it would hurt more than it did just a while ago.

eighth attempt: reach out to someone…definitely talk to them. text or call them when it’s possible. because they do care. you were just too caught up in your own feelings to remember that but that’s okay because it happens. you’re human.