Prose Piece - Tumblr Posts

That Feeling

You know the one.

The one that punches you in the gut, just as you let down your defenses.

You’re feeling better, feeling higher, and you smile in relief, thinking the worst is past, that things are okay.

Then reality asserts itself, and history repeats.

Time turns back its hands, and you’re dragged with them to that place you never wanted to be again.

Regret. Guilt. Remorse.

These are names people use to describe this feeling, compartmentalize it, so we can box it away somewhere and keep it under wraps. And for a time, it works. It seems almost to disappear, like the mysterious misfiled paperwork for an insurance claim. 

Sometimes that’s all there is to it, and it really is gone.

But only sometimes.

All it takes is one trigger, one false move. A twinge of memory, the prelude to a great loss. 

Words said by a loved one that make you sound selfish and uncaring.

A single sign marked with just a few barring words.

These are just a few examples of the many triggers man faces every day, forcing that feeling to jab, to strike, to tear anew.

It sucks, but you have to deal with it somehow.

What will you do, when that feeling hits you?

Mistakes

I messed up. I feel badly for the frustration I have caused. I must learn. I must move on. Letting go of the pain is the hardest.

Boiling Alive

I’m not talking about an oil bath or some hot jacuzzi.

There’s no fire underneath me, no heating element to burn me.

And yet I’m boiling.

Boiling not from anger or from hate, but from shame.

I upset someone I hold dear. And I don’t know what I did wrong.

And that feeling has been burning inside me ever since. That is the source of my heat. That is my everlasting fire.

And I don’t know if I can put it out.

Because I don’t know how to start.

No stop, drop, and roll. No fire blanket. I may be able to try smothering it, but that’s just a temporary solution. Because it’s still there, and it’ll burn again the minute my thoughts turn the right way.

So many bubbles forming under my skin. They pop. They burst. And the fire burns hotter. And all I can do is wait.

Wait till you’re willing to talk to me.

Because I can’t figure this out alone.

And I fear it will destroy me without you.

Please, don’t keep me waiting.

I need you.

My firefighter.