on a scale of one to ten how sad are you.
you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that itâs not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. youâre just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five. Â the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterdayâs close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.
and what if. what if tomorrow itâs a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but youâre stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like canât-eat, like the tide isnât just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now youâve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.
you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. youâve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes youâre fine. and youâre kind of used to it. and itâs not sad, itâs just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i canât remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i canât be bothered to fix it. thatâs not sad thatâs every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like theyâve been shut off. right. Â
maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but iâm not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i donât want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i canât worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -
âon a scale of one to ten,â he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. âand please be honest about this.â
dededos
ellievsbear
jacobvanloon
annaxmalina
izzy806
baratheonpilled
