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I'm Zane 21 toy store manager insomniac with depression and anxiety. I like marlboro reds bourbon beer and bad jokes *cheeky grin* *geeky thumbs up*

Don’t think about them.

They make you sick to your stomach.

Why are you thinking about them?

Just stop, you’re only hurting yourself.

You’re going to make yourself sick.

Well, Fuck. I told you so.

She holds me in such a way that says to me she needs this more than I do, even though we both know it isn’t true. She squeezes me like she’ll never let go, even though we know she will, and she eventually does, but perhaps someday she won’t. Her grip on my sides tells me she doesn’t want to let go, but she does, and i wonder. Was it my fault?

Disappointment. i close my eyes tight, compressing them with my palms and slowly release them while dragging my fingertips through my hair. With my hands around the back of my neck, I stare blankly at the desk in front of me wishing I had a single significant thought  or the words to express myself to my peers. My mind is blank and yet full of dread and sorrow that i can’t find the courage to face. My body is numb from my lips to my finger tips making it impossible to tell how I truly feel. Someone please speak the words I wish to speak, someone please express myself for me. I can’t do this alone, someone please, just get me and get me out of here. 

Some do drugs, others go out for a run, but at the end we’re all just searching for that tiny space, perhaps a hole, that gives us shelter from the terrible reality of the world.

Unknown  (via itsbcubed)

Run. Keep running. Run faster. Don’t stop. Your legs will cramp. Your lungs will burn. Tears will be shed, but as long as you keep running nothing can hurt you. Except that life has a way of catching up to you. So you can be serpentine, or the fastest man alive. You can get in a car or a plane, even a rocket, but you’ll never be fast enough. Eventually enough seeps through the cracks to drown you, so you might as well accept that life has a way of catching up to you.

Just let me be. I’ve locked myself away in this public place and thrown away the key. Can’t you see that I don’t want to be spoken to? Does the earbud in my left ear not make it clear that i can’t hear you? I don’t need you to tell me how to get where I’m going, in case the upside down map I’m holding didn’t make it obvious enough. 

Let me speak. Give me a chance to say how I feel and why. I know that you have things to say, and I understand and I hear you, but I need to figure out my own way. I want to explain to you the depths of my being and what I have surging inside me. Whether it boils over or I tear it out of my chest let me expel these words from my breast. Don’t interrupt when I’m talking just let me purge myself of this pain that I carry day in and day out. I can see your thoughts and feelings that you’ve gathered from the path you’ve taken, and I’m listening to your beliefs and your beliefs in me, but let me walk my own way. Just hear me out now, but if you wouldn’t mind, remind me what I was talking about.

I sat with my head down. The TV was on but I wasn’t watching the movie that I had already seen a few dozen times. The loneliness had set in. There was no one around to share the laughs with or to over analyze the plot. No one to look at, to talk to, to sit with, to hold. I needed something more, so I got up and left. I left my home and my friends, my job and my car, my responsibilities and my life behind. I just walked. I’m not in great shape but my legs almost never give out. I can walk a mile in 12 minutes, or so my high school gym teacher informed me. That means in an hour i could walk 5 miles, and in a day i could walk 120 miles, with a few breaks to eat what little food i consume, sit or stretch or use the bathroom in a day i rounded down to 100 miles. I got up and and I walked for days and days. The weather patterns changed, the trees morphed, their leaves changing shape and color ever day that i shuffled my feet across the ground beneath them. I walked until what I felt sat right in my stomach. I drifted into a soft purple field of heather and laid to rest at ease. I still felt very much alone, but for once in my life I felt justified and at peace with myself.

His eyes are wide. He’s staring, but he doesn’t realize. She’s nervous. She curls her fingers and clutches them tightly in her palms. He was cute at first, but he hasn’t blinked in far too long. She’s getting scared and angry, He’s such a creep, I’m gonna be here a while, I’d better say something. She removes herself from her seat and her friends, pantomiming being right back. She jostles through the crowded room getting more frustrated and angry, Why did he pick me to stare at? What does he even want? Does he think he hot shit or something, that he can do stuff like that to people? Finally she is standing behind him. It isn’t surprising that he’s still staring, but what’s curious is that he’s still staring at where she was. Her hands are shaking, maybe this was a bad idea. She clears her throat, he doesn’t notice, “Uhm.. Excuse me?” she offers sternly.

"What’s that…?" His head shakes violently for a moment and he blinks hard a few times involving his full eyebrows and cheeks,"Oh, sorry. Can I help you?"

"No! I mean, uhh… sorry, I thought you were someone else." He was spaced out? So he’s not a creep? Well maybe, but at least not overtly. 

"Well, then I guess i was…" He cracks a smile and pauses for laughter, but her mind is off on some new tangent, "someone else. get it?" He bursts out laughing as she smiles and chuckles. 

He is kind of charming, even if his jokes are bad. It’s kind of funny how much he enjoys them. "Maybe next time you’ll be exactly who I’m looking for."

"Oh?" He understands this remark as much as she enjoyed his joke.

"I’m Meghan by the way. You should come sit with me and my friends, we can get to know each other."

"Yeah, I think I’ll do that." I can’t believe she actually talked to me, she noticed me, she wants to get to know me. I hope she didn’t catch me looking at her before…

days go by, weeks, months, a year and then some. I still wake up in a cold sweat wondering what I’m even thinking about, shaking like a leaf. Trying to stop it only lets the fatigue set in faster. I feel weak; I couldn’t get out of bed if i tried. The cravings hit; my body yearns for something more, something it thinks it still needs, but I refuse to succumb to its demands. Deep breaths; In - I’m on my feet, and out - walking towards the door, in - get into the shower, out - get dressed, in - leave the house. My heart pounds back and forth between the base of my throat and the inside of my chest. Leave the house, my legs wobble until i grit my teeth and lock my knees. Stand tall, back straight, shoulders back, chest out, be strong - leave the house.

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