Shadows

You should've known better, you tell yourself, over and over again. Day after day. You should've known better; you shouldn't have taken the risk. You've never taken them before, you shouldn't have started. Because look at where it got you.

You're sitting on your bed, staring at the wall. It used to be so soft; you could lay down on it and feel like you were on a cloud. But now, now it felt harder than a rock. If the circumstances were different you wouldn't sit on it, you wouldn't sleep on it. If the circumstances were different you'd have gotten rid of it by now. But no, the circumstances weren't different. And you can't change them.

The shadows on your wall don't change much. They shift slightly as the sun moves, as it rises and sets, but other than that they remain still, unmoving. And you like that. You need that. The certainty. The reassurance that they'll always be there, always be the same. You need that.

Because nothing else is the same.

Your head hits the pillow and the tears finally come; you close your eyes and hold them back, hold them behind your eyelids, but still a few slide through. You hate that. You hate the fact that you can't even stay strong. That you're becoming weak, all because of him. You hate that, and you have to change it. You want nothing more than to be strong again. Because when he left, he took your strength with him. And you can't handle that.

Your eyes open as the tears stop and you look at your room. It's just like the world, now, full of shadows. Shadows that are just waiting to reach out and take away everything you have left, everything that ever meant anything to you. But now you have nothing for them to take.

You lost him in the shadows; it was the very covering they used to break him, kill him.

You're losing yourself in the shadows; it's the very covering you need to fix you, save you.

And you hate yourself for that.