I did it again. I shut down my emotions and decided to bask in the abyss of my pain. Every time I think I am over everything, it all comes crashing down on me again. I can’t do this. This has to be my fifth major mental breakdown in under two months and I don’t have my dog to comfort me and wash the tears away. How can such pain exist in such a little place as my fragile cold heart? They say that if you hold on to everything and stay strong, then everything should be alright. But that is a lie people tell themselves to mask away their pain and ripped apart wounds. Still fresh to the touch, stinging when salt is placed on it. Today I could not breathe as the tears suffocating me in my throat, overtook me as I was wrapped in the arms of my friend comforting me. As I rested in his arms, I let go of the bitter pain that threatened to drown me. In that split second, my mind made a truce with my heart to console my body into a calming trance. I am safe. I am loved. I am wanted. I belong in this space. Even if those thoughts were fleeting, as the pain punched me in the chest, causing me to have fits of wheezing, it mattered. It has been a really long time since I have felt like I could trust my body to be in the now as I reclaimed what was once lost to me. Even as I sit here on my couch, in my too bright of a room because I do not trust that my demons haunting me will stay away with the lights off, pushing aside all of my essays and readings overdue for this week, I feel like I cannot breathe. So I write my pain out, making the ink bleed with the darkness of my soul. Somehow wishing and praying that the ache that has always rented a room in my heart, would finally decide to move out.