Dear diary, I caught a wave of anxiety and suddenly found myself running out of the house, as if she had called me, as if some invisible thread insisted that I had to go. It felt as though if I didn’t run to her, the panic would swallow me whole.
Everything had been bearable until today. But something shifted, something cracked a little, and I lost control of the reins for a moment.
So I went to her house. I stood there and looked through the window.
There was nothing. Just silence. A sort of cold that doesn’t come from the weather but from the understanding that no one is waiting.
And that was it… I turned back, walking slowly, the way people walk when they’re trying not to fall apart in public.
And I felt the urge to cry… I am not OK…
And I know that no one can really help me with this, it’s something I’m supposed to handle on my own.
But I can’t. Not today. Not with the way the world feels right now.
I will allow myself to be weak and to cry… Otherwise… I don’t know. I feel like running to her and holding her in my arms…
But it’s over.
That will never happen again.
FFUUUUCKKKK….. I HATE IT IN ME… These panic attacks, this anxiety, these thoughts that I’m needed and must drop everything and run to her…
And then I get there, and no one is waiting for me, and I just stand there like a fool, looking…
Not even knowing why…