Shuffling through pages of your most favorite book trying to find the most intimidating and beautiful lines you’ve marked, the light – the candle light – softly burning the atmosphere dimming all that is too much bright. There’s this music playing in the background, it’s soft, it’s sad, words filling the room with fading moments.
You can’t find the lines you’ve read million times, this reminds how clumsy you are, your hands shake and you flip many pages, consciously-unconsciously, but you can’t find those lines. The softness of the music is turning into the harshness of reality, the room once dimmed suddenly feels too bright to your eyes. You’re shaking, dropping the book you snake your arms around your torso, hugging yourself, crooning something in hushed voice that you would’ve wanted to hear by them. You craddle yourself till the unbearable light sets back to it’s softness, till the heaviness that was pushing you down oozes out, till the unnoticed tears that you didn’t knew were there stops, till you fall asleep into the arms of dark.
Sometimes it’s too much, too hard, too unbearable to keep moving with this heaviness. And these times you know you just have yourself, so you look straight in the eyes of dark thoughts and hug yourself letting it know that you ain’t alone. You have Yourself, always will.
whispers of love 