One of these days,you will wake up and the strangest thing will happen to you.You won’t be sad anymore. I don’t mean to say you will be happy,or okay.You won’t be coherent,or well rested,or productive.Not necessarily.

But not sad either.

For a moment,the shock will flood you.Just to make sure,you will touch the old wounds.Gingerly at first,then not.You will play those songs and read those poems that helped you cry,and you won’t feel a thing.

Just like that,all those months will dissolve into nothingness,crumble away like sand.You will not be all raw scars anymore,and you know how it will feel?

Fucking terrifying.You will go over the blank slate heart and if lucky,a vague sense of panic will engulf you.But otherwise it will be like getting over with an exam and,while unsure of your performance and at once not caring much,you look around for something to do and there is nothing.

Your thoughts will border on bewildered relief,and that’s when you will sit to write about it.If lucky,you will find words again but they won’t taste the same in your mouth as they did.Nor look as pretty as they did,because that was an once upon a time and you look forward to calm,clinical survival.And that will be all.

 

 

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