Sometimes I just sit in a chair, shell shocked. Pain paralyzes me. There are times when I think I can come out of it, but then I go to that place, the place on my pillow at the very edge, where it's cool and cradles my neck just right, and I'm safe there. I bring the covers up to my chin and shut the world out. The door to my bedroom is closed and I like it that way. No one can hurt me when there's no one in that room but me.
I haven't written in so long because I've been so tired. Just exhausted. I start but I can't finish. I'm so scared. That's why I'm so reluctant to come out from under those blankets. I don't want to have to face the horrible world that's out there, the scarred, tarred, black pit of a world that turns its' cold shoulder when you need it most. Everything is always freezing nowadays. What, I ask, have I done to be treated this way? Why have I been dealt this hand of cards?
I loved with every single bit of everything that I am. I have nothing left to give anyone anymore. I have exhausted all my resources, my heart has been broken into a million zillion tiny little pieces that no amount of anything could put back together. I don't ever want to let anyone in, ever. I have been broken and have no desire for anyone else to come along and try to fix me. Even after all of that, you're just somebody that I used to know.
But even though the world is tilted upside down and I barely have the strength to cling on anymore, I have something. I have a glimmer of hope that anchors me to the world I despise so much but know I have to stay in. I have Harry and Katniss, Peeta and Ron and Hermione. I have Haymitch and Dumbledore, Fred, George, Ginny, and Cinna. I have Hogwarts and District 12. Privet Drive and the Seam, and the Capitol. I have my books. The Hunger Games and Harry Potter.
Yeah I know it sounds stupid, but on the days when I saw no reason to get out of bed whatsoever, when I knew absolutely nothing anymore, I knew I had my books there for me. They weren't going anywhere. I could pick them up and pick up where I left off, and everything wouldn't be alright, but it would just be a little bit better. A little more normal. A little more constant, a little more bearable and tolerable. The world isn't such a harsh place when I know I have a whole other world to disappear into when the pain gets too great to bear.
I hold on to the books like stuffed animals when I sleep. They're the only thing rooting me to the earth, and they help keep the nightmares away. The endless nightmares of car crashes. Sometimes you show up, but I don't care. I don't want you there. I don't want anything to do with you. I want to push it all out of the way and forget it all happened. I want to forget the way I felt. I want to forget all of those nights, I want to forget everything that ever happened. I can't though. I can't forget it. But what I can do is put you in a place where I don't ever have to think about you anymore.
Now you're just somebody that I used to know.
