I get sore when I think about how quickly everything is coming at me. I get saddened by songs that play over my speakers and completely wrecked by a change in disposition. I sit up at night- tight in the stomach and wait for something cool to wash over me and to ease my caustic worrying. I'm completely bemused by my own idiocy and by the way I let things openly affect me. I let things under my own skin and let them sit there to form a lump so that I can pick and poke at it until I bleed red all over my sleeves. I feel like it's pretty apparent, the way I feel, the way I am, and by the way I won't let got that I've submerged big bits of myself into an acidic environment that lifts me just high enough that the fall alone will crush my bones and keep me alive in stagnant misery. The thing is that I'm happier than ever. I'm happy to cause myself emotional pain at the expense of being loved in such a quiet way. I feel loved, I feel allowed in, and welcomed to be whoever it is that I am. I feel safe in even the weirdest dreams and tied along so as not to get left behind completely.
I fainted in a dream yesterday afternoon and breathlessly called out a name, a name attached to the person who came to my aid and lifted my limp body to a comfy place and tucked me in. They covered me and made me feel warm with words and with a kiss on the cheek. The vividness is electric and keeps me from dreaming anymore. I felt completely contented in my ailment and undeniably in love with my savior for just being there.
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