It came back.
I’m not sure how.
I’m not sure when.
It could’ve started when I lost my best friend.
Or when the love of my life no longer wanted to be mine.
Maybe when I couldn’t afford to feed myself for a few months.
Maybe it was a combination of everything.
There’s only one thing I know for sure,
It’s back.
The haze.
The haze that moves in like a sickening fog
Covering everyone and everything I’ve ever loved
Skewing my vision.
The haze that wraps me up like a soft blanket
But I feel no comfort or solace.
Just colder
This dream state of emotionlessness smothers my every move
My every expression.
I feel nothing.
I want nothing.
I am nothing.
Everyone’s presence exhausts me.
How can I seem interested in their stories when mine is just a bundle of blank pages?
I’ve lost myself.
Faded out of my own story.
And the one thing remaining?
The haze.
A storm will come.
Clean out every crevice until the haze is diffused into nothing.
That’s what happened before.
So I sit.
And watch the clouds.
Waiting in painless agony
for that very
first
drop.
