Have you ever imagined yourself smothered in the red of someones heart? Meaning love…in case you wondered. I have, not necessarily the romantic type but I’ve loved and it’s been swallowed whole by the blackness.
Loving someone under the depths of depression is one of the most impossible things in the world. It’s harder than learning how to speak another language or learning how to drive a car or even learning how to fly an airplane. It’s nearly impossible. Nobody ever explained why. I still don’t know. I want to. I want to be able to fall in love like any other person, but these fucking voices in my mind keep telling me it’s not the time. I’m not saying that I have intense voices in my head, but you know what happens. Everyone has these voices from time to time. We have them every day. Every single fucking hour of the day. They never stop talking.
People we try to love don’t understand our true emotions. They don’t work like most “normal” people’s do. We can’t be happy in love all the time. We need the time to ourselves (most of the time) to truly be ourselves. We need the time to be depressed. That is how we are going to make it through the day. We need to be alone. But at the same time we want nothing more then to be cuddled and protected by the warmth of another’s soul. Why are we not allowed to have all of that? Why is it not socially acceptable to be alone while being with someone?
You would think that because we are in so much pain we would be the first ones to be protected my a man or woman’s heart.
People are scared of us. People are scared of the illness. They refuse to touch us.
Touch me. Feel my skin against yours. It feels the same. Though we are covered in pain and sorrow, we do not feel like death. We can not kill you. We can love you.
“It hurts so much. Not to have you by my side. Not to be around you. Not to be with you. You’re the pain that I won’t give up. ~~Unknown.
Love will find it’s way, and so will you.