#gdotkeaton

A Dead End Thrills post? Or the story of my life?

Something has a hold on me.

I look over my shoulder.

I feel it, although nothings there for me to see.

‘Who’s there?!’ I cry out knowing the answer before the sentence finishes.

Mistakes.

Is it trauma or karma that makes me feel I can’t escape poor decisions.

Calling it karma is me blaming myself for things I didn’t have control of.

I did, but not really.

If I had control I wouldn’t feel this way.

If I had control I wouldn’t have let things get this out of control.

If I had control I would turn back time and stop myself from taking a leap of faith.

Is this why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling now?

Waking from nightmares about one wrong leap afraid of where I will land next, or maybe I won’t land at all and I will just keep falling and falling anticipating an impact that will never come.

Will a nightmare wake me whenever I want to take another leap of faith?

Something has me and I feel it grabbing tighter.

If I had control I wouldn’t feel a thing.

If I had control I wouldn’t let those thoughts into my day dreams or nightmares.

If I had control I wouldn’t let anxiety sit on my chest like a wave of water, crushing me like right before I breach the surface for air.

I’m pushed back down again further than before.

The darkness has me.

I close my eyes again making peace with what I assume is my fate.

I think of all the people that love and support me right now.

The people who will dismiss my feelings and say it’s all in my head.

‘Just breathe’ they’ll say encouraging me it’s oxygen surrounding me not suffocating water.

I stare in my mind wondering if I should believe them or not.

Then I look over their shoulder.

Is that... no. nothings there.

I have to protect them.

Distance maybe? But from what?

If not karma, and I’m still on the fence of trauma but, paranoia is present.

A gift plaguing me that I don’t want.

In my case, a basket I can only describe with a haiku.

Never letting go.

Rigor mortis from the past.

Sometimes I hate time.

Sometimes I spell time L O V E.

Love to me is terrifying.

Because for me, terrifying to me is enjoying a million amazing moments with a person and then losing them.

Them not wanting the same anymore or never wanting to begin with.

With every second you don’t talk to them you worry if they are slipping away.

Away with your heart and sanity away from you.

You are left with nothing but amazing memories of amazing moments.

Moments that now cause so much pain that you start to neglect yourself.

Neglect yourself to the point where you forget who you were before you met.

You met them and now you wish you didn’t.

You didn’t know things would grow to be so different.

So different than anything you could have ever envisioned happening.

Happening to still close my eyes and see a child that’s half me and half you.

You telling me you love me when I’ve been saying it in my head for months before.

Before we were just friends but sometimes we feel like we share the same body.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I hate that cynical side of me.

Sometimes is only sometimes though.

Most times I wish I had more T I M E.

Time to figure out this terrifying thing called love.

Until then haunt my mind and terrorize my soul.