There are some days when I can’t breathe.
There are some days when I wake up to find that my lungs have turned to lead, weighing me to the bed, drowning under blankets. They shine gold as the sun leaks through my window, blinding me, making me see only darkness when I know it is day.
There are some days when I turn to you and tell you I don’t love you, rather than I don’t want you to love me. I heard that we only truly love others after loving ourselves, so maybe I’m not lying. You love yourself, and you love me, but I’ve heard we only have so much love to go around.
There are some days I worry you’re pouring it all into me, trying to complete me when there is nothing there to complete.
Some days I worry I will be the reason your eyes go dark.
Some days it does not cross my mind.
Some days I wake up. I get dressed. I see you and I smile. I don’t question if I deserve you.
Some days I can feel more than hatred for myself, I can live without looking inwards, without seeing a black hole where my heart used to be.
Some days, I forget that I have a trash bin under my desk filled with suicide notes, and a word document saved, encrypted with directions on how to tell my friends it wasn’t their fault.
Some days I want to die, and other days, I decide, cancel those out.
Some days, I don’t count pills until night, until it’s dark and everyone is asleep.
1, 2, 11, 24, 33.
Some days, I wake up, and I realize I didn’t do it.
Some days I regret it.
Some days I don’t.
Some days are better than others.
Some days, are better than none.