we left home, and never looked behind

i am:

afraid,

fearful,

scared,

and terror-stricken.

i am terrified.

i am:

shaking,

flailing,

sinking,

and gasping for breath.

i am drowning.

i am:

broken,

damaged,

fragmented,

malfunctioning,

and cracked.

i am not okay.

every little bump in the road i tried to swerve

people are people, and sometimes, it doesn't work out.

on the road that is my life, 

it seems as though as soon as i fill one major pot hole

two smaller ones have a habit of popping up in it's place.

it's not to say that these new problems are insurmountable, 

but it's getting to the point 

where there are all these smaller holes keep cropping up,

too quickly to be filled it or avoided.

i'm not like other 19 year olds,

there are several reasons for this, 

the most immediate one as of late being:

that on any given morning,

instead of be woken up by the alarm on my phone,

there is a very real change that i'll be jolted awake

by the prods of my father,

telling me that my mother,

(who gave away her oxygen machine)

didn't wake up when he went in to talk to her that day.

or the panicked movement of my father,

informing me that my mom has had one of her blackouts,

only this time she didn't just hit a wall or the floor

but instead clipped a table or chair.

there's even the chance that neither one will be home,

and they'll have gotten into a car accident ,

(a scenario that seems more and more plausible as they approach 70)

one they simply couldn't walk away from.

because of the feasibility of any one of these situations, 

i have to be ready at any given moment,

to live my life without my them,

which means that these small pot holes,

become daunting and intimidating.

a long time ago

i became determined not to be blindsided by the loss of my parents.

as such i've been trying to mentally prepare,

but as they get older,

and i remain incapable of dealing with my issues;

i'm beginning to see that knowing it's coming,

and be ready for the events in question

are two very different things.

but instead of dealing with it out right,

my tactic of choice these days

seems to be avoidance.

i'm passing the flashing "END OF HIGHWAY" sign,

speeding past the "last exit"

and the only hope i have at this point

is that my road turns into a surface street

and doesn't just dead end.

p.s.

i never was very good with extended metaphors.

as such, i'll probably re-write this when i'm feeling more clear.

spoiler alert:

it'll probably be re-worked into a hyperbolic drowning sequence.

the tv's still on

if i were dying;

and my mother found out.

i would have to comfort her.

i love them with all my heart, 

with everything i have inside of me;

but my parents had no business being parents.

if you've seen no good at saying sorry then you know,

this is why grey's anatomy means so much to me.

i gave all i could, but it wasn't good enough

i'm writing this now 

i'm writing this now 

only because, honestly 

i have no idea what to write as a follow up to the last post.

i find myself lying awake, just before i go to sleep,

listening to "the saddest song in the world",

and all i can do is think about what i wrote,

how i feel and all i can seem to think about.

i don't know what it is, 

but lately i just can't live in the "now"

it's borderline crippling.

don't get me wrong;

i love my new job,

i love my friends,

i love people i work with kind of, mostly,

and i know that things could be a lot worse,

but i DESPISE "it could be worse"

by that logic, anything can sound good,

you have all these people telling you just think,

if that truck had merged a half a second earlier you could be dead,

well, if it had merged a half a second later i could be living in my studio apartment,

working at my dream job in san francisco.

so please no "it could be worse"

it is how it is.

i guess i just need some time to adjust;

this january made it a full year,

and it's taking a whole lot longer than i bargained for.

on the bright side,

now i can finally blog about something,

without worrying about a weird segway.

question, tell me what you think about this

what happens when i find him?

the guy who's sweet and thoughtful,

with his dark hair and light in his eyes.

then what happens if he loves me back?

we love all the same songs,

and hate things in the same ways.

then what happens if he decides i'm not enough,

we're not enough,

or worse, what if something horrible happens to him?

what do i do then?

who am i afterwards?

how do i get better, once i've had the best?

and finally,

is it crazy to miss a place that you've never been?

because i do;

it's all i can think about,

and some days, it's the only thing that keeps me sane.