Monstrilio

To wither is not the same as to break; to break is to have pieces to put back together, and to wither is to dry up, to wilt, to lose bone, to die, and death is the most boring.

He asked me to cry with him, but his sadness was his and I couldn’t steal it.

I wanted my grief, but instead I was left with a horrible nothingness, and I got really scared.
But then I realized fear was a thing I could feel, and I clung to it.
I was afraid of my loneliness.
I was afraid I would never have anyone to love again.

They’d form a support group but soon grow to hate one another because what they needed wasn’t acknowledgment or empathy or closure; it was escape.

This place knows me, and I know myself in it.