Bath

You went in for comfort. 

Refuge. 

You just needed a moment to clear your head, toss out the thoughts that kept pulling you under.

You got it for a moment as you tossed your clothes, locked the door and started the water. 

You wanted it hot, steaming, blistering, gives you third degree burns hot. 

You sunk in. Exhaling in pain, but you push through and focus on that pain as it wipes everything clean. 

For one moment everything is silent and your mind wanders, to lazy summer days spent by pools, lakes and rivers. 

You would swim down trying to touch the bottom before rushing to the surface for air. 

You even managed to touch the bottom of a lake that one time, although your parents yelled at you terrified that something happened. 

You had to stop playing that game after that. 

Slowly you sink deeper into the water until its up to your eyes, nose just poking out. 

                                                    A final breath 

                                                                            and your under.

Your kicking your feet as quickly as you can, arms at your side as you squint hoping to see the surface, but it's too murky. 

You do a few strokes with your arms hoping you reach, but nothing connects, so you turn rushing to the surface as you feel your lungs starting to burn. Air bubbles flow to the side as you realize your swimming in the wrong direction and quickly change course. You think nothing of it as you swim harder, faster, but it just gets darker and more difficult to breath. 

It starts to feel like your swimming in place, while you're trying to keep yourself from breathing in water. Where's the surface? It shouldn't be this far away? Why can't I see the sky?

When finally you get a glimpse of blue as you redouble your efforts, ignoring the screaming of your empty lungs, the blackening of your vision, you keep swimming.

Your hand breaches the surface and you greedily take in air too quickly, your body starving for it, coughing and laughing because it's okay.

Your okay.

 It's ok.

When you feel something wrap around your ankle and pull you back under, farther then you were before. Where you can no longer see the surface again. Unsure of whether you can swim to the top once more.

Twitch

Their fingers twitch, ache and stumble across the keyboard. Struggling to get out a word of what has to be done. This has to be done. They think, while waking with the early morning sun. As they stumble out of bed, only to sit in an old, covered in dog-hair office chair. Monitors come to life around them and they stumble into the work they have to do. This has to be done. They think as they wake each morning, exhaustion long since settled in their bones. They used to think they couldn't function off of little sleep, now they know all it takes is an extra cup of caffeine or two. 

They take a moment to breathe, rest their eyes from the monitor lights, even with everything as dark as it can possibly be, it's still too bright. So they close them, let their mind wander and their fingers start to itch. They crave for something they cannot yet have, they wish for something that's at the bottom of the to do list. Still they ache and the mind wanders and thinks about everything but the black hole of stress and anxiety at the center of their universe. The only thing keeping it afloat is the countdown. At the same time, each day the number goes down, well the anxiety goes up tenfold.

In moments of weakness, when they can't take it anymore, they delve into the past. A past that never happened, a past where as they are right now they went back and had all the time in the world once again. It's just another dream, a dream that usually causes more pain once faced with the reality at hand. One where they wished they learned to do differently to fix their mistakes, while at the same time running from the mistakes they're making now. 

Still their fingers convulse and grasp at something they could create, a fantasy, a dream that they could look in on. Even if it's only for a little while. A way to let out all the regrets of time not spent, of decisions made safely and logically, of times where the consequences were much smaller than you believed. A place where you can hide away the child in your soul, while the adult chaperones. Not to make it safe, but to make it fun. 

 

Sighing Student

"Out of all of my students, you sigh the most."

After saying this the man pauses, but brushes that thought aside. They're just a stressed college student, it's probably nothing serious. So, they continue with their online lesson, screen sharing and talking over skype. The atmosphere is light with jokes regularly spoken by the student. 'Everything's ok. They wouldn't joke around this much if something was wrong.' The tutor thinks, as they say they're goodbyes. 

"See you next week!" They say, quickly leaving the call before more homework can be assigned to them. The man laughs and not for the first time wonders how old their student really is. He knows they're in college, but they also failed a few times, so they're older than the average third year college student, but by how much? Because sometimes his student acted like a high school-er and other times surprised the tutor with their bouts of seriousness and knowledge. Its strange having only a name and a voice. They could pass each other on the streets and never know. 

'I've got 15 minutes before my next lesson,' he thinks deciding to go to the kitchen to grab a quick dinner before he needs to continue lessons. The tutors day continues and he doesn't wrap up till 8 p.m. By then the phrase has left his mind and another week passes. 

*

**

*

"Hey, hows it going?" he starts with his usual question.

They let out a long sigh in response, "I'm alive. How bout you?"

He chuckles, "Not doing to bad myself. You don't sound good. You okay?"

"I'm okay, just a lot of things on my plate." There's a pause and some shuffling from their end. The tutor waits knowing that their student has a question that they need to think over. "Can I have some advice? That might not have anything to do with our lesson."

"I'll do my best, what's up?" 

It's answered by another sigh and what sounds like finger taping, they eventually build up the courage to ask their question. The tutor smiles slightly to himself, not many of his students ask for his advice, usually it's just help with their homework, but this one does every once in a while. It always makes him wonder what's going on in their life, but he doesn't ask not wanting to take up precious lesson time. Time is something that this student of his doesn't have a lot of.

 

It's Raining Somewhere

I wonder if something in me is broken?

Well there are a lot of things that are broken.

I can't always understand my emotions.

I take part in activities that are self-destructive.

I'm never confident in my relationship.

It doesn't feel like my partner loves me, even though they say they do. 

Yet, I still feel like this is just a comfortable arrangement for them. Every time I bring it up they say its not like that and they'll try to do things differently so that I don't feel that way, but it feels like nothing ever happens.

That's another thing broken about me; I'm too needy.

I just... ugh. I don't even really know how to explain my frustrations. We went on a date yesterday. I planned everything they were just along for the ride. Good for them because they hate making decisions, but the entire time it just felt like they were humoring me. We dressed up nicely for this and I tried to make it romantic, just to bring some life back into our relationship, but sigh. I feel like I failed. 

I feel like I'm constantly failing in this relationship. It feels like they aren't attracted to me anymore. They only do it with me just to keep up pretenses. They find me boring and not very stimulating to talk to.

It feels like I was the prototype relationship and now they need to find someone similar to me, but just smarter and better looking. Cause I feel like I'm just constantly disappointing them. And I know I should talk with them about it, but I've brought up the whole 'It doesn't feel like you love me' a few times and promises are made but are never kept.

Which just cements the facts that this is just a comfy arrangement.

So I wonder every time they come home if today will be the day they tell me, 'I've found someone else who makes me feel more love than I ever did for you. I'm leaving you for them.'

I know I can't just let these thoughts sit and simmer. I know I have to bring it up with them again, but I'm just tired of the 'ok, things will change,' but then they never do.

I keep wondering if I keep doing things for them that could make them happy, will they start to reciprocate, but its been months and honestly I don't even think they've noticed.

It might just be easier to go through the stages of grief and end this relationship. 

Better sooner rather than later, eh? 

Even that joke makes me want to cry.

I just feel like crying, but tears won't fall.

Still, it's raining somewhere.

 

Pool Cue

You hold the cue with elegance and confidence as you walk up to the table.

Your eyes focused on the table before you, deciding. 

It only takes a second, but you aim your cue, carefully line up your shot and lightly hit the cue ball.

To some it would seem like its not strong enough of a shot, but you smirk and your eyes light up as the intended ball falls into the pocket without even touching the tables edge. A clean shot, one that sparks joy, but it only lasts a second as once more your mind races looking at the table.

You choose your next target. Its a bit of a trickier shot, but you focus and nimbly line up the shot, concentrated on getting just the right angle. Another light tap and the cue ball just grazes your target, but it's enough and it falls with a hard thunk into a pocket. 

There's only one ball left and you smile lightly to yourself enjoying the game before you, the challenge this has created and the satisfaction it brings you. 

Your eyes harden as you prepare to line up your shot. You think about it for a moment, which angle would bring you to success before you nod, your decision made. Cue straight and steady, fingers poised, you make the hit.

In the end, the win doesn't matter to you.

As the entire time you play your eyes show the calculations running through your head and you wear a satisfied smirk on your face as you watch your opponent play.

Dead Flowers

The spark is gone. 

It's still warm, comfortable and inviting, but the spark is gone.

There's no giddiness, no butterflies, honestly there's barely time.

The love is still there, but the passion and romance has long since faded away.

It's inevitable with relationships and at some point this is when some people step away. Searching for a new spark, but I'm sitting at a damp fire pit with my flit and rock trying to get anything going. Trying to get any kind of spark to appear again.

It's cold.

I try to surprise them with chocolates, little love notes, make their favorite dinner and doing all the chores, so that they can have a free evening. They never notice though. 

Sometimes it feels like I'm shouting into a void. 

At those times I start to draw back, stop putting in effort and that's when I hear something on the other side. It's quiet, barely a whisper, but I hear it and think 'They must have noticed!'

My efforts start up once again and the cycle continues. 

I'm getting tired of this cycle. 

It makes me wonder if I'm putting too much effort into this relationship. Or are my expectations too high? Would it kill them to have a date night even once a month? To hug me once a day and maybe even a peck on the cheek?

I'm tired of this cycle.

So instead, I slip back into a toxic habit.

Reading about relationships that have passion, love and comfort. Close my eyes and imagine for the night that I was in that world. It's a habit I'll have to break again.

But for just one night, I want to love and feel loved.

Late

Its Late.

The mantra rings through me as I go about my day, waiting. 

Waiting and waiting.

Body tense. 

 

All I can think is, its Late. 

 

I can't focus on the work in front of me. 

Eyes looking at nothing in the distance.

My body in flight or fight mode.

But there's nowhere to flee.  

 

The threat is inside me.

 

Distractions are all I have left.

And waiting. 

There's no hope. 

If it's taken from me, I don't know if I'd survive. 

So I wait, wishing I could speak with someone.

But it's too soon. It's not that late.

 

The mouth speaks and now two are waiting. 

 

Waiting and waiting and waiting. 

Until something can be done. 

Plans have been made, but it's too soon to act.

 

So we wait.

 

One gives in and checks.

It's too early, but maybe it will help. 

Only a little.

It's still too early. 

 

And we wait.

 

Finally, finally hope slithers into us.

We relax a little.

Breaths come out easier.

But we still wait.

 

It's too soon to know.

So we wait.