Maybe it's just easier to not breathe at all?
(P.s- I just realized my name that I use (DetonaterGirl) reminds me of gossip girl. facepalm Now I’m considering changing it... -_-)
Sometimes it gets too hard. Life, that is.
Get up. Get dressed. Do your teeth, hair and make up. Find your shit for school. Walk to school. Seven hours of nonsense you won’t remember. Homework- pssh, yeah fucking right. Drink, video games or guitar. Eat. Sleep. Do it all again.
Why were we put on Earth? To live short lives in which we just achieve aging and then dying? In which we are tormented for trying to spend what time we have the way we want? Where we’re always wrong in someone’s opinion?
Sometimes it’s easier to throw myself into a chemical coma; one of alcohol and whatever drug’s selling on the corner. That way I can forget how cruel this life is.
I suddenly think of what the choir teacher says at the hard parts of a song- “Don’t breathe! Stop breathing!”
And fish. They don’t breathe; they have the right idea.
What about when WE swim? They tell us not to breathe underwater- another “don’t breathe!”
There’s also when you get an injection- “if you’re squeamish hold your breath and don’t breathe until it’s done.” More “Don’t breathe.”
And if something smells, what do we say? “Eugh, don’t breathe!”
It’s like the universe is sending us some sort of hidden message- if things get tough, don’t breathe” Hold your breath! STOP BREATHING!
I’m jolted back to here and now. And I’m thinking. Maybe the universe is right? Maybe it’s easier to not breathe? I’ve made up my mind now. I won’t breathe. Not anymore. That’s it, decided, and now that it IS decided, I actually feel relieved. Now to plan how.
Hangman’s noose? I know how. I made one for history before.
Jump off a bridge? Maybe. I just need to choose one.
Death by drugs? No. Too long.
And suddenly I’m looking up from where I’m sitting in the cafeteria, and I’m not breathing again.
Because a vision with curtains of black hair and a pale, pale face has just entered the room.
He’s tall, kind of lanky. But not ungraceful. He seems to be laughing, his eyes crinkled, at something I can’t see in my peripheral vision. He’s sassy. In a good way. He’s perfect.
And I’ve changed my mind now.
Because sometimes we stop breathing for a good reason. Our breath catches, and our eyes glaze over. And this boy, this stranger, who seems older than me, and maybe even has a boyfriend, or worse, girlfriend, has changed my mind.
Because sometimes it’s worth it to go breathless for someone.