And the very reason why it didn’t die was because she refused to let it. She held greedily, desperately onto it while incessantly whispering ‘I should let go, I should let go, I should let go.’ She did not let go. It weighed 2 tons and she carried it, hidden under her coat, wherever she went. She prayed to God no one would notice. She learned to walk steadily with it tugging at her heart. She learned to mask the pain, to mop up the warm sweat with trembling and tired fingers. Quickly, she learned. It was tiring and lacked meaning, but it was worth it. She could not let herself go to sleep empty, again. Never again. This unnecessary weight did not fill any holes inside of her as the thing was not hers. But it made her forget she was missing something—something very important, faceless, irreplaceable. But this, this would do.

His body is the magnet that coaxes burning life from my soul. His voice is the only lullaby I wish to hear. His eyes awake in me what I never knew I had—patience, love, fidelity…I want to crawl into him and never come out of the cave formed with the hinges and bends of his arms. I love him like fire, violently burning immortality to ashes. I love him like the serial-killer aches for the resistance, the screaming, the blood. I love him like a disease, slowly, painfully deteriorating the beautiful human form. I love him, fervently, desperately, compulsively. I love him, and I can’t help myself.

Fainting feels surreal. I’m not even sure how to explain it. One second everything’s normal, and the next everything is far away while I’m in absolute darkness. It was scary, frightening that I could easily be taken away from reality…but also, it was a pleasant feeling. I felt relaxed afterward & sickly happy. People swarmed me and I didn’t know what had happened. It was like that last few minutes of my life was a complete blank. I had a dull pain where I had hit my head. It was like, I was in a hazy delight. Sick, right?