way too hard

I thought about how I bumbled around for the remainder of May trying to get my life into some sort of order. Days went by when I felt so happy and confident that my life would be okay, then, as quickly as the feeling came, it would disappear again, and I feel my sadness setting in once more. I tried to find a routine I could happily fall into so that I'll feel like I belong to my body, and my body belongs to my life, instead of wandering around like a zombie watching others live their lives while I'm waiting for mine to end. Unfortunately, the routine hadn't turned out exactly as I hope it would. I still find myself immobile for hours in my bed, reliving every single memory Ron and I had shared. Sadly, I spend most of my time thinking about every argument we had, wishing I could them all back, wishing I could take back every horrible word I have said to him. I pray that Ron had known that those words had only been spoken out of anger, that they had not reflected my true feelings. I wished all our memories could be of good times, but the bad times kept coming back to haunt me. They had all been such a waste of time.

Nobody told me that we're short on time.

Then there were my happy days, when I would walk around in a daydream with nothing but a smile on my face, catching myself giggling when a joke of ours would suddenly pop inside my head. This is my routine. I would fall into days of deep, dark depression, and then finally build up the strength to be positive and snap out of it for another few days; yet, the tiniest and simplest things would trigger off my tears again. It's a tiring process. Most of the time, I couldn't be bothered battling with my mind, It's far stronger than any muscle in my body.

Friends and family are always around. Sometimes helping me with my tears, other times making me laugh. But even in my laughter, there's something missing. I seem to be just passing time while I'm waiting for something else. But I'm tired of just existing, I want to live. But what's the point in living when there's no life in it?

Deep down, I know it's normal to feel like this. I don't particularly think that I'm losing my mind. I know that one day I'll be happy again and that this feeling would just be a distant memory. It's getting to that day that is the hard part.