Succumbing  − 7 February, 2007

I'm crying as if I'm bleeding the tears out of me.

My head is resting on Samantha's chest, and aside from the feel of her warmth I can focus on nothing. Blackness swirls disarmingly around me, making me cling to her for fear of my life. I can't move. I can barely breathe. I sob helplessly and mercifully without shame, and Samantha's arms are holding me together. I can hear her telling me, everything's okay, I promise, Josh, everything's okay. I can't remember Samantha's face, but I think she is crying, too.

I love you so much, Samantha, I say. I am so sorry. Tell Sarah that I'm sorry, and that it's not her fault. Please. The plead bursts from me.

Josh, it's okay, Samantha says. It's okay...

But I didn't think things were okay at all. All the weight had been on my shoulders was finally crushing me, and I could do nothing but collapse emotionally. My friend Nathan drove forty five minutes to bring me to his house while I was still drunk, and in the morning I felt fine. No headache, no nausea, and only the faintest memory of the night before. There was nothing to suggest that I'd drank myself into an uproar. it would seem that I came through everything no worse off than when I'd entered.

It was everyone else that'd been hurt in the process.

Comments:

pepero (February 11, 2007. 06:14am)

in high school as a *teenangster* i had to fight a lot of demons. i was obsessed with shakespearean tragedies, books on existentialism, and 20th century russian novels. i fell into a very deep, dark, abyss trying to find meaning in my life, a reason for my existence but somehow as i grew older i found my peace. much of it i expressed creatively. i know one day you will find that inner peace as well. you're in my thoughts.

Oblivious (February 11, 2007. 07:28am)

I hope that's true. Thank you.