It's gonna be a long journey, are you ready? If this important to you, stick with it. If you're really patient and you don't say a word. If you dig way down, farther than you've ever gone. If it gets a little dark but you're not afraid. If you wait there and you can just be. There you'll find, carefully tucked away, the things I can't say.
There are things I can't say because I promised I wouldn't. There are things I can't say because they're wrong. There are things I can't say because they would hurt other people. And there are things I can't say because they would hurt me. That's what you've come here for, right? The peeling of the last layer, the peeling off the deepest layer of skin. Raw, exposed, vulnerable, irreparable.
Unprotected, the things I can't say unravel into darkness and silence and aching and nightmares. The dark so bright you'll shield your eyes. The silence so loud you cover your ears. The ache in my heart will shatter the ground you stand on. Your nightmares will keep you awake. The reality of dark will beg for sleep. The reveal will break me and I will crumble. My protective layer dissolving and pooling around the remains of what was.
And once the protective layer is off, it can't be put back on. You won't look at me the same. You want want to touch me. The sight of me will terrify you. I won't be safe to take around your friends. So you'll leave me here in the dark, with the things I can't say, trying to put back all the raw little parts of me that I carelessly revealed to you.
The pain is familiar and the darkness is soothing. The aloneness has a predictable ache. I want to call your name but when I speak, sadness fills me and I choke. I want to find my way out but I am numb. I also know I can't stay. I will drown here. So I will wait, alone, while it burns and I struggle to cover up the parts that hurt. It may take days or it may take weeks but when the raw stings less and I feel less naked, I'll crawl my way back out. I will feel the sun on my face and I will take one tiny step forward.
With each step forward, I might remember the dark and I might not. But the next time someone asks what it feels like to be sad, really, really sad. I'll just smile. Because there are things I can't say.
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