Easy To Forget.

Negative progress has me spiraling in reverse. I found out today that there is such a thing as too much to ask, and it’s plural and overwhelming every single sense. You can’t dodge bullets from every direction forever; one hits its mark or fatigue takes you instead, and you’re down for the count. Pan out; yes, that’s my body lying in the center. I can’t take another drop of heart, another pain of slow loss.

Everything I know is fading and I’m completely out of my mind. In essence, my heart is breaking. I feel everyone around me who once called me friend, who put any type of trust in me, taking bits of all that they had entrusted in me back, slowly but entirely too rapidly for me to stomach. I feel like I’m failing; I’m not doing a good enough job and I have no idea what changed everything. I’m watching the faces that used to look forward to seeing me fade away, and I am clueless. When did I become this forgettable? I’m no one to be missed.

I’m trying to be the sunshine everyone counted on me for. It’s hard when I’m failing. Did I change, or did my light just get old? I’m unwavering; lack of mystery leads to lack of excitement. Holding on is a chore, too much pressure for young life. I never wanted to be down and out, and I’m fighting gravity every step of the way. Optimism never gives up if you never lose sight of it.

I want to save everyone. There’s so much I wish I could say, and so many people I want to help, but I’m scared to extend my hand if they won’t grasp its hold. I’m watching you kill your outlook and justify the dark clouds. You’re hot and cold, and I’m trying, but the closed emotions are a slap in the face. You just forgot about me when the fun faded away and sorry sunk in. You’re my rock and I’m terrified new faces will thrill you away. You disappeared. One sentence for a handful of people, and the pressure flies just a little straighter. I’m bursting with things to say, but ears are hard to come by these days.

Caution to live by: don’t push people away, and if they mean something to you, tell them as frequently as you can. I’m keeping my head above, but I’m lost at sea. I’m sick of the static and I need reassurance more than ever. But it’s nonexistent. I have to blaze my own trail; I’m fighting and I’m determined. I just want to live life carelessly like I could not so long ago. So much pressure, so many sources. I’ll figure this out. Maybe I’ll have help. Maybe people will prove forgetfulness is momentary.

But I’m not counting on it.