A Loss of Reality

There she sat. She inhaled her cigarette and blew out with a big sigh. As she sat on the concrete wall she started out into the sky. The mountains seemed to stare back at her omnisciently like they knew everything she could never know. She sat there and she felt the burning in her eyes, the ones that she knew would bring tears. She blew out some more smoke and she reached her hand out over the overhang and felt the raindrops dropping forcefully onto her soft hands. She watched the pearls roll off and splatter onto her jeans. She wished she could just drop and make all of her being become imbedded into the fibers of her jeans. The feeling of being wanted surrounded her mind like a cob web you walk into after a rain shower in the forest. She couldn’t make it go away and yet somehow on some deep level it was comforting. How had she gotten here, how had she gotten to this low point in her life?
A month ago, the sun was shining, the rainy days even seemed pleasant, and she could smell and hear everything in a positive tone. What had happened? She didn’t want to admit the truth because she knew exactly what it was that she hated so much. It was her. She had blocked herself out and she had made all her friends disappear. It made her feel sick. In fact that was it…Sick right there on the concrete parking lot. Her insides had even rejected her now. She recalled a time right before she had banished her friends from her life.
“It’s alright love, we care about you. It doesn’t matter what’s happened or who you are or what you’ve done. It’s okay to just be you.”
And she threw up again. She knew if she picked up her cell phone they would be there for her. They hadn’t stopped calling since she had disappeared from earth, but here she sat, alone. She yelled at herself, “I made myself alone. I didn’t have to be like this. Why?”
Everything always ended with the same phrase, “You deserve the best out of life.”
But she hadn’t found that. She tried to find it in her friends but at the end of the day she felt miserable anyway. She opened up the palm of her hand and tear drops were caught in the center. She put her hand to her face and bundled herself up making sure not to fall from the height of the wall. There she was, the child she had always felt she was.
The vomit taste still lingered in his mouth, but it didn’t bother her anymore. This moment she was living had happened so many times in the past it just felt natural. She built herself up to destruct and rebuild and that was what she was doing. Rebuilding what was left of her emotions or what she hoped would be a rebuilding of her outer shell. Maybe if she was stronger she would be able to protect herself longer. She sat up from her position. She threw the left over butt off the edge of the wall; jumped down off the wall and stood up breathing so that her chest protruded. She was fine. She was cool. She was collected. She could rage war, she could go back to her friends, and she could be herself. She didn’t have to listen to what the world said was right or wrong. She breathed the same air they did didn’t she.
She was gay and that was okay.