Never never never

I never wanted to come back here. I never wanted to have to say things that could only be said here. I think I did well for my prelims - I even got a B for literature even though I made it through J2 alone, alone in so many ways - but school starts again tomorrow. They will confirm my grades tomorrow.

The fear is astounding, paralysing... It makes me want to hide. I want to go drinking again and feel the silly euphoria that helps me forget everything else. Or maybe I need 'her' again... Yes I want to hold her hand again. I want to hold her. I want her to need me. I want someone to love - and she is the only one who inspires it. We're meeting up this week.

I've always told myself not to fall in love with her. She seems to inspire it but is herself immune to its allure. I avoid succumbing by keeping a tight rein on my imagination. I will not put her on a pedestal... or have I already done so? I don't want her to feel like she has to be nice to me just because I confide in her. I want authenticity - authentic love. It seems I have succumbed after all.

She doesn't know how much I want her and need her.


But I digress. I know this fear. I've faced it before. It is the fear of the future, of what it holds, and what it would do to me. Then I cling to the present because I have walls to protect me, things that make me happy or, at the very least, prevent me from sinking further. I wouldn't want to engage with anything or anyone beyond my 'comfort zone', my own little world. It is a place of solace, from the prison of my fears - fears brought about by the unnamed condition and all the destruction it has wreaked. The invisible scars are very real and keenly felt. They are still raw. The whips of life.

I've decided not to go to school tomorrow. Yes, I've decided to hide. I get nervous when I'm meeting people, miserable when I have to submit myself to judgement. The trigger words are very real as well and quickly induce a state of shock - hyperventilation, palpitations, anxiety, and soon I become too weak to speak or move. It has happened on many occasions and on each occurrence I remember nothing but fear fear paralysing fear. This is the cowardice that two years of uncertainty, loneliness, insomnia and despondence created. It was never my fault.

I feel like Job, but I've never blamed God. Jesus is my salvation - don't ask me why I hardly know myself. He works through fateful providence - can, has and will - so I believe. My faith is unorthodox and I distrust the church because it goes against so many teachings in the bible, assuming the bible itself is accurate. History necessitates selection, and the bible's compilation looks extremely suspicious. But I digress again. It's what I do to run away, so maybe I'll just go for one lesson.

I'm scared of sleeping now. It will make tomorrow arrive faster. As far as the mind is concerned, sleep is to time what a wormhole is to space - a shortcut. Could I please not wake up?