I forgot what I was writing about here -
Jake started talking on msn.
I enjoy metaphors, anyone that reads this can tell that I adore them. But sometimes I wonder; would I be able to convey my thoughts - anything - across effectively without them?
In my head, my thoughts are often pictures. I over analyse and have alternate endings for almost every situation. All my emotions are images. I still feel them, but, they're images, and I can not draw - so I compose metaphors.
My most recent is about the numbness I feel whenever I'm around anyone. When I'm alone it's there, yes, but it's different. You see, it's like this:
My heart, it's like, encased in glass, right? And it's just a case. But when I'm with everyone, anyone - they put pressure on the case. And they suffocate my heart. The case becomes smaller, and my claustrophobic heart aches. They throw pictures of the emotions I should be feeling in front of the case. And when my heart reaches for them, it hits the glass. So, I know how I should feel, but I can't feel it. And the cold ice of the case turns my heart numb, and alone. Some people sit, and tap at the glass, and I'll put a lonely smile up to try and meet them, but the glass won't shatter. Won't break and release me. And the happier the emotions outside that case, out side my body are - the more I ache. And I ache for one thing, mostly. The one thing that breaks that case. My girlfriend. She's warm, she's home, she melts the ice and frees my dying heart.
And the ice melt, and the ocean that's left drowns me when she leaves. When she's there, she in my breath, my life. And she is still everything when she's gone. But without her, I can't feel that breathing, and I can't hold on with my head above water. And not all the ice just melts away. Some of it breaks from the pressure of my thudding heart, that beats uncontrollably for her. And when she's around the wounds that broken ice inflict are okay, they're just as happy. They have all the emotion that sits outside that case every other day to distract them. But when she's gone. The case returns. And the wounds turn into infections, and they make my heart ache with every beat.
I'm not saying it breaks - no that would be too easy. It becomes infected, and swells to a size far to big for that tiny, pressured case. So when I'm with anyone else, it hurts, and I break down. And it can't be fixed, solved or helped. What's worse? Is being alone. It's like taking the bandages off a break, or sprain. Everything falls, there's nothing to hold it there. The case disappears, the emotion out side it - retreats, and the heart searches for everything. But it's lost, in a place with nothing. The brightness blinds, with nothing to find, stumbling through the darkness. So I retreat, but into the tiny corner, with nothing but emptiness. The numbness doesn't suppress anything - just makes everything more prominent when it dissipates.
We made a mends, but nothing's mended.
