It's so hard to jest, when you're sobbing everywhere...
Straight back into the pits of writhing agony.
One night I climbed into bed on the wrong side, one day, I woke up and rolled out of bed on the wrong side, and I am stuck on the wrong side now. The cranky, ill-temper has dissolved completely, and given way to wringing pains.
I don't want to be in this place again. I had a few days there...a few days of respite, rest, and reconstruction. I wanted that to continue. I was happy. I wanted to stay happy. I didn't want to know these throes again. I didn't want to come back...
But, I was only in a temporary medicinal numbing I suppose. (Figuratively of course. I haven't been on any drugs.) My problems haven't been solved. Not a one of them. They were only ignored for a little bit.
And the main problem, the one in the forefront...
Loneliness. That biting, tearing, ripping, aching loneliness. It isn't incurable, but for now, I have no means of curing it. So I can only endure that which is almost unendureable. I'm tired of it. It hurts too much.
I wish...
I wish I wish... I could whisper my wishes for so many things...
But none of my wishes will be granted...none will come true. So I had rather not wish. Only conjuring false hopes.