Chereads / Blood In The Wine: Graveyard of Souls / Chapter 3 - This is not part of the Story

Chapter 3 - This is not part of the Story

But I am hollowing and the knowledge of it does more harm than good. The sun shines just as brightly and rain falls the same calming way.Everything is the same and it isn't. It's muted, Everything is muted. Colours, feelings, memory, tastes, the very things that makes me myself it's mocking, it seems so far away from me… There is a raging wildfire inside me that I know I can't let out because it will benefit no one. It's consuming me and I just try to stifle it. There's a barrier forming and I do not like it. I don't want it. I want to break things, I want to scream, I want to dig my nails in something, in someone, in anything and shred, and shred and shred! I want to burn things, I want to lie on the cold floor and doze off for a very long time. This feeling, whatever it is, will damage whatever else is worth keeping safe. I want to get it out and I want to throw it away and crush it to nothing. I cannot stand this volcanic rage. And so I find myself facing my fears through the eyes and going void. It's a ugly leech and it sucks the joy, love, happiness out of everything. I have forgotten so much. All the things I loved are abandoned. I forgot how I used to be. She's being erased and I do not like it. So much of her is faded already, scrubbed off and forgotten. I have no appetite anymore. I have no appetite for food or for art or being creative anymore. I'm in a tug of war of wanting to live and having the strength seeping out of me like sand through my fingers. It's a different kind of pain when you are dying slowly, it's a different kind of fight when you are drowning and fighting to breathe sweet air even if it's temporary. It's different when you're fighting the sea and all you can do is hope to breathe.

I am hollowing like a tree and it terrifies me. A walking shell of what used to be and whatever bright flame i had in my soul is flickering like a short candle. The gnawing feeling inside is eating me away and I cannot stop so I'm ironically letting it feed on me. I.am Terrified. I am both terribly scared and tired, to my core. I am tired of crying because it hurts my eyes but it's the only thing I can do. I hate that it's helpless. It's a helpless kind of crying. How can anyone live like this? I know that this is not living, I know it. But how would I go about living when the very essence that makes you alive is being tainted. Like black ink that fell on paper and it devours all the white, leaving the paper soggy and easily ripped. That's a waste, what a waste. What a waste of ink and paper when you have to throw it all away and start all over again with half the ink gone and one or two papers less. How do you start all over again knowing very well that even if you tried to draw the same thing that it will never be the same…Draw something else? That's easier said than done.

Do not compare my experience and pain to yours because it will never be the same. Do not berate me when we wear different shoes and live differently under the same sky, on the same planet. No one will ever experience the same thing the same way. We are individuals and we experienced our own pain by ourselves and only we know how it feels. The grass was never greener on the other side! It is the same! It have always been the same! Give me your genuine empathy and not those empty words. Don't look at me like that. How dare you?! How. Dare. You. You, who make life unbearable with your actions. You who are wrong and don't want to acknowledge it. Keep your poisonous words and your toxic notions and your hands to yourself! Don't point fingers at me when nine more should be pointing back at you!

I know that I am not alone, not entirely alone and out of all things valuable in the world, I have caring friends and a caring Mother. It makes a difference. It made a difference. If I am to wither away, may I be reborn like a Phoenix. I would like to have the vibrant and creative side of me again. May all my ideas that I have hidden away in books and thoughts come alive again. I want to see the sunlight the same way again, to paint freely again, to be unapologetically myself again, to laugh till I am out of breath again even if everyone else stopped. I am not laughing now and I would like to so when I do I will laugh it all out.To have passion again. To obsessively read a big book or a book series again and miss sleep because of it. I am missing myself. I miss me. I miss me a lot. And if i can, to reach out in empathy to those who are hollowing and to those who are hollowed. I would hug you all and let you know that this may be the dark before dawn. If you need to unplug and reset then do it. Even the smallest joy is a breath of fresh air. Even if it takes a while to breathe again you keep trying because it is good enough. It is worth it. The you that smiles genuinely and laughs heartily is worth it. May you heal with grace and the barriers that keep you from your happiest self burn and may that fire light your way.

I will write again that I can promise. For us, the Young Hollows. We are not Alone.