#4:39pm

They blink in an attempt to replenish themselves, but exhaustion pulls at your eyelids, willing them shut for longer than you intended. Behind the darkness, you become more aware of the shaking of your hands and the trembling of your lips.

You may be too dehydrated for tears to form, but your body knows its natural desire.

A friend jerks you out of your disassociation with a snap of their fingers. You shake your head slightly and offer a sheepish smile. You mumble a, “sorry,” only loud enough for them to hear. Concern washes over their features as they let out the softest of sighs.

You clench your jaw as you brace for the question.

“Are you okay?”

You breathe in deeply, but forget to release as a strained, “I’m fine,” escapes past your lips.

A part of you wishes to chastise yourself because you’ve never been so closed off, (not that hiding your plethora of issues behind two syllables would be considered ‘closed off') but you also knew the repercussions concerning speaking about your heart’s most prominent crave.

And so it begins: the spiral.

That one thought you wish to never entertain, but is always left in the back crevice of your mind, ever present. It never quite leaves. Halfway out the door, most times. You wish that it wouldn’t overstay its welcome, not that you ever really opened your home of a heart to it.

Staring at your friend, you questioned how much your life would impact theirs.

Whether you add anything into their life.

Whether you matter at all.

Whether they would be better off without you.

Usually, you’re able to suppress these inquiries.

But you’ve been weak. So weak.

Thus, the thoughts envelope your mind wholly.

And so.