Waiting. That's the hardest part. The passage of time when one is suspended between the living and the non living, where thoughts are clouded and never clear. When the irrational overtakes a person and drives them further into the darkness, into the bowels of the earth.
Insanity. That's how it comes about.
I'm waiting. I don't know when I will ever see you again. Perhaps never, and that thought, that thought alone is enough to send me careening into the pit of despair. And there are so many others - more tormenting thoughts in my mind, all seeking to destroy and deconstruct my fragile world.
I don't want to be waiting. For me, it is an extreme anguish of body and mind. There is no line between the gaping emptiness in my heart and the intensity of my screaming mind. All the air is sucked away, leaving me in a vacuum, breathless, in a blind state of panic.
You'll ask, in all your innocence - how can something so small, so insignificant, hurt so badly?
It does. It simply does. My wounds are open abscesses and bleeding ones. They never close, they never heal. You touch them, and more pus will exude. Every little contact, wound upon wound is pain like flashes of lightning, it shakes my universe. It disrupts the core of my being.
I'm waiting. I'm only waiting.