And Never Let Me Go

I feel like I'm suffocating.

There's no reason to feel that way. I know this. I just do. I don't pretend that it makes sense. It's why I don't talk about it. It's irrational. If I can't justify the way I feel, I have no business feeling that way.

But I'm smothering.

I know what I need. It's silly and I can't really bring myself to ask anyone to do it for me.

Frankly, I need to lay on the floor and cry. I've cried alone, I've cried hidden in the bathroom. I've cried in the shower. But I haven't yet laid myself down and cried. I can't take one single step more, and I want to cry about it. It's stupid, it will not solve a fucking thing.

And yet, that's what I want.

And I don't want to do it alone.

I would ask my Bubby, but whenever he sees me crying, he can't take it. Bubby should have been my brother. He just cannot stand to see me crying. So even though I know I would be okay if I could just cry in front of him, I won't ask him to do that for me.

My Charliam is in Ohio, and therefore too far away.

Because what I want, basically, is someone to lay on the floor with me. Lay on the floor with me and stay quiet. I don't want to hear that I'm going to be okay. What if I'm not going to be okay? I don't want promises made that aren't going to be kept.

I don't want someone to beg me to hush, or be still. If I am quiet, or still too much longer, I will break. This will kill me. I just want to lay on the floor and be broken. I want someone there with me, to witness me being broken, to see. Because then it will be real.

It's ridiculous though. I know that.