Derailed
722A/N: It's short.
Sweaty palms, fluttering heart-no I'm not in love. I’m currently undergoing a mild panic attack. Continuous twisting of knots in my stomach; struggle for air; suspended animation; drop: I fall into a heap on the filthy floor. I can’t do this. I can’t go in. The mixing of multiple emotions all at once sends me into overdrive. An alternate dimension, a place only I know. Blackout.
No matter how much I try to put it aside. No matter how much I try to shelf it. My ego still bursts into the open. I can’t. I just can’t step inside. It’s a little too much for me to handle. No matter how many people feel bad. No matter how much disappointment, rebuke, and bitterness I receive, I just can’t. They say it’ll be fine. I know it won’t. The disapproving stares. The calculating gazes. The stern looks. I can’t bear to see them and neither can you. I can’t bring myself to involve you in this humiliation I’ve placed myself into. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth that.
Steady breathing. Firm stance. Placid Countenance. I’ve made the right choice.
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A/N: I know it's short and nothing's barely happening but it's all I have right now.
I'm giving you a question. What's your favorite work of mine? (you can discount the ongoings-uhm, they're not yet done)
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