At least that’s the only way I have ever known.
There is no magical spell or prayer strong enough; or miracle or surprise.
When it hurts, it hurts.
And no matter how hard you try not to feel the pain; no matter how much you knock yourself down with over-sleeping, over-eating, over-thinking… the torment won’t let you breathe.
Each of your steps, wherever your eyes look, wherever your body goes; it’s gonna be there waiting for you.
The music that once made you smile will now bring tears of ruthless agony.
Yes, go ahead; delete all that bloody playlist. Delete all the messages, all the photos; do not let any single piece of evidence nearby.
You don’t need them, you have enough with all that’s in your head. Or your heart. Or whatever is left of it.
I know, you lost your soul. It hurts like a paper cut, right?
Well, let me tell you; it ain’t that simple.
You can’t just put a band-aid on it.
Right now, in the middle of all this detestable reality, right here, surrounded by flesh-devouring clutter; you have to make a decision.
You must decide whether you want to die with your chest open in half, spurting a mix of liquified anger and desperation; crying for a pair of ears that went deaf and a pair of eyes that went blind; or if you dare to be brave enough to accept that you are totally screwed to this fatality and must live it through.