Typically he prefers to be an optimist
to see the good & be grateful for everything that he does have.
Living day to day, unbound by anyone or anything beyond himself.
Making choices exactly how he wants & living life to the fullest.
in a moment;
he can be jerked into this alternate way of thinking.
It’s disgusting really.
A poor excuse of a pity party. Feeling alone. Being alone.
Then it happens. The numbness.
His whole body just seems to lose touch, like his mind is fleeing from the pain of awareness.
Awareness that the house is silent.
Awareness that limited comfort will come from an empty bed.
Awareness that dinner is for one.
Awareness that he is so small.
Running from pain. Running from hurt.
Even the slightest suggestion of emotion creates a flight response.
He buried his heart years ago.
The idea of digging it up? Disgust. Anger. But why. From where?
Why can’t he let them in?
Why cant he love them?
Why cant he love himself?
So he stays alive.
He wanders lost in a past that was never his.
Watching the world around him keep turning.
Why is he stuck?
Why cant he get out?
The questions remain endless
but he flips the switch.
He prefers to remain an optimist.
To see the good and be grateful for all he has.
Bound by only himself.