Have you ever woken up at four in the morning and wondered why you are here? Have you ever wondered why you are even alive then fallen back asleep hoping that death would come swiftly while you are wrapped in your world of dreams? I do all the time.

Life moves too slow and too fast all at the same time. One thing is going along fast while the other drags on so slow. I begin to fall apart at the seams, torn apart by the conflicting movements. Nothing can keep me together. There’s not enough super glue in the world to mend my broken heart. I start to pick up the pieces and someone runs into me, making me stumble and drop everything, making me fall back down to the floor.

I turn to things to make me happy. And it works…for a while. Then real life comes back and beats me down, pushing me back into the dark hole from where I came. There is no light there. Nothing is alive. It’s just me all alone in the dark with no one to save me. I feel myself falling again. I’m starting to loose my grip.

I throw myself into books and stories. It’s better to be trapped in a fictional word than to fall into oblivion where no one can save you. No one can hear your screams as you cry out in pain. Why is there so much pain? Will it ever stop?

A thousand pin and needles dig deep into my skin. I am constantly in pain. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. It lives deep inside me; a demon that destroys the mind and freezes your heart, leaving you broken and un-feeling. But the cold chill is welcomed. It makes me numb. It dulls the pain so that I forget it is there. But there’s always an end to this emotional winter. I spend more time in pain than I do being numb. Sometimes I would rather be numb. But the pain lets you know you’re alive. But is that really a good thing?

I feel so alone. I know that there are people who care about me but they don’t really know me. No one knows me. I’m not even sure if I still know myself. I thought I did at one time. But that was a long time ago. That was before I had my heart ripped out by so many people. People that I thought loved me and that I loved. It makes me cautious. I no longer want to give myself away. I hide so many things from the world. Fear powers my hatred of life. It makes me furious and sad all at the same time. Why is it so easy to turn things into anger?

No a day goes by that I don’t secretly wish for death. I feel it like a hot wind upon my back. It follows me around but never touching me, just teasing me with the idea. Yet I have found time and time again that it is always just out of reach. So I give up on trying. Is it really that bad to be stuck here? Is life so horrible? Sometimes I feel that it is. I want it all to just go away. No more pain and sadness. No more disappointment. Nothing. Wonderful nothing.

Don’t think that I am suicidal. I’ve given up on that. Even death could not bring true happiness. Nothing here can. Or at least not right now. I search for the thing that will set me free and get rid of this suffering. But I feel that my search is in vain. I was to cry but I’m afraid to. I know if I cry I’ll be able to feel again. So I push it all away beneath the surface. If I look like I’m dead, it’s because I am. I need the spark to light the fire but I used my last match.

Save me from impending darkness. Save me from this pain. Save me from my emotional winter. Help me live again.