didn't hurt.

Ever noticed how hard that is? Just to breathe when everything hurts? It amazes me sometimes that we make it out. You make a mistake, beat yourself up over it, cry your eyes out, and suddenly it's over. Good or bad, it goes away. Right now I'm in that in-between stage. Right around the crying your eyes out part. I'm just waiting for my breathing to become regular again. I'm waiting for the guilt and anxiety to disappear. To be quite honest, it wasn't a big mistake either. The worst part about it was that it was my own rule that I broke. And I can't forgive myself. I didn't break it alone, but even that doesn't make it feel any better. Breaking that promise to myself sent reality crashing into the side of my head and there's no way I can ignore it any longer. You think you know someone when really, you only know them the way you want to.. Right? It's worse when that someone you know is you. After you see a piece of yourself that you never acknowledged before, you have to make a decision. Accept it and move on, or make a change. And what if you don't want it to be who you are, but at the same time you don't want it to change? What if you want to be the person you are even if it's wrong? Like when you know you shouldn't be doing something and you know it will get you in trouble and you promised yourself this time would be different and you wouldn't let it affect you the way it used to... But then when it happens, you can't make yourself stop. And you realize that all the time you spent trying to be better wasn't as wonderful as those few moments of giving in. That's when it starts. Air turns to water in your lungs, and you're choking. And every memory makes you wish you didn't like it that much. Your tears become acid in your eyes and no matter what you tell yourself, you can't stop them from burning holes in everything they touch. Even though he tells you it wasn't your fault, the guilt has already set in. You can't think about it without shivering. You can't talk about it because the words turn to ash in your mouth. And while you wait for him, you forget to breathe. Unconscious or not, you know that first breath will stab into your lungs like liquid fire so you simply refuse. You try to remember what it felt like when it didn't hurt.

I wanted to talk to you, but now I wish you hadn't called.