Water

And with no warning, water starts falling down my skin. I feel it bursting out from the void of my eyes, this deep darkness it hides. I was afraid nothing could hit me anymore, but thinking about leaving with no goodbyes must have opened the door. Today my firstborn told me he hasn't been quite well this week, and eventually ended up saying he has been afraid of my imminent death ever since he sadly witnessed my father crush all the brief hope that crossed my mind, with harsh words and heavy despise. But that was not when tears came back to me, no. I mourn the future that any of us can expect to live in this family, yet I have gone cold as a rock. I told him to quit worrying, there is no point in that. Life is fleeing anyway... I spent most of my day planning this surprise for some people I care about and trying to allow myself to trust in a better tomorrow. But it feels like I am only saying goodbye, quite tenderly. I am placing all the love I feel, hidden in pretty words and pretty packages. 17 years of dodging premature death, and sometimes it feels I never left that bridge. I am still trying to jump, and still corroded by guilt for my weaknesses. I didn't take the jump for my son, but now I need to do it for myself, and it's harder. It's crazy to think that my brain has "upgraded" to sabotage me into suicide since I refuse it consciously. The weirdest part of it is that these news should terrify any normal person. But I am not even scared. Somehow it's like I am an outsider to myself, and nothing could make me feel anything anymore. But apparently I do. So I cry because I feel my time running out and celebrate my tears, because they prove I am still here, I am still alive. I didn't mean to sound so upset... I didn't give up, and I don't plan to. But please don't let me be a living corpse on autopilot with a sign that says "I tried", because those words to me mean "I failed", and that is not an option. Happiness, in solitude or company, or I'll keep trying until all the lights in my brain go out.