You fall for what is most likely the millionth time in an endless amount of time. You don't know how long you've been here. How long you've been fighting to move forward, to reach whatever is on the other side. You don't know. You just focus on the end goal, whatever that may be.
So you struggle to slowly drag one of your hands from your sides, the better one. This one is only covered in bruises, speckled across your skin like sprinkles on ice cream. All of them different shades of purple and blue. After many grunts and lots of effort your arm is near your face, so now you work with your other more broken hand.
This one is covered in lacerations, varying in length, but all slowly leaking blood. You're pretty sure your pinky finger is broken on this hand as well, so you try not to move it.Still the pain overwhelms you, forces you to grit your teeth, until both hands are near your head. Now the tough part begins.
You put both your palms on the floor and try to slowly lift yourself from the ground. It's a painstakingly slow process and you bite your lip to keep yourself from screaming. Two broken ribs and plenty of bruises and cuts go a long way to add to your pain. Still you manage to get on all fours, where you hang your head and try to take as many shallow breaths as possible. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on breathing not on the pain.
Now comes the most difficult part. You steady yourself, take in a single breath before you quickly and very painfully stand. The motion is simple but you scream your lungs out as soon as your standing. Your legs shake as they hold you up, battered and bruised in there own right. Still your standing again, that's all that really matters now you just have to keep moving. As you take your first slow step forward a voice calls out from the front.
Why are you doing this?
You look up to see yourself looking bask at you, except this you is healed, only the scars tell the tale that you yourself are living in now. Still you don't understand, so you cock your head to the side in confusion.
Why are you putting yourself through this much pain?
You look at yourself confused. Why wouldn't I? I have to move forward keep going.
But Why!? What's even the point!? Why continue to suffer? Continue to be in pain for a future that you are unsure of, don't know of?
You smile at the shadow before you, before taking another step forward. Because if I stop here, if I just give up than I will have nothing else left. You take another step until you're right in front of your shadow. You pat their shoulder in comfort. It's okay as long as I keep trying. You walk passed them ignoring the pain coming from every pore in your body. It doesn't matter. None of it matters just keep moving...
You don't even finish your thought before you feel a strong pain against the back of your knees and your falling to the floor. You let out another scream as you feel something in one of your legs crack. Just breath. You hear your shadowing walking to you and you lift your head to see it standing before you.
See this is what your dealing with! You're just going to keep rising and falling and raising and falling over and over again until there's nothing left of you. Stop this nonsense and just give up!
I can't though. You say as you slowly start to position your arms to stand once again. I have to keep moving forward. Even if it's at a snails pace I have to move. The shadow growls before it leaves your line of sight, but you feel it run away then turn and run back, straight towards you. You try to stand or roll over but your in so much pain that you can't move. The shadow lands right on your legs and you let out an ear piercing scream, both of them are broken in some way and you know you can't stand again.
Now you have to stop the shadow screams at you. Your so broken you can't even walk! For some reason you don't feel despair, instead you bring your arms forward and start to drag yourself, continuing on the path at a slower pace.
When the shadow notices, it isn't happy. It sits on your back forcing you to hold in your pained moans while it shouts again. Stop! Stop this pointless nonsense! Whats even the point?
The point? Why there really isn't a point to all of this pain or struggling I'm just doing it.
But why? Why go through all this pain for nothing? Why suffer in silence like this?
I really don't know. I just know that I have to because if I stop suffering, stop trying, even if it just gets harder and I have to keep restarting or my progress is small or slow, well at least it's something. This, well this is life. It has no purpose or value. It's something everybody goes through or does. And despite my wounds, my thoughts, my outlook on life. I'm not ready to die yet. We aren't ready to die yet. That's why I keep moving forward. What more do you want?
You aren't sure when it happened but at one point you stopped looking up and were instead looking down at a bruised and battered looking self preaching about living when you're not really sure if you want to live. You look down at yourself, scarred and without a heart or soul.
The one standing is dead on the inside while the one with all the passion for life, the heart is struggling to move on the floor. This is who I am. Two halves that are in constant conflict with each other.
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