𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗴 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀.
It was always the same feeling, I hated to say that it had turned into my reality. A lot of people were interested, to be my friend and maybe something more. But when they found out about the demons inside of me, they always found reasons to leave.
It's almost like was swirling in a hole of despair, unable to get out. Some people tried to pull me up, but once they saw how hard it was, they let go of my hand again. Neverending suffering was written across the my eyes, littering the usual sadness and breaking it down. My demons were nothing out of the "ordinary," it was something a lot of people often struggled with. Some lost the fight, but many also won. But mine, it felt like their deep whispers was all my mind played again and again. I felt defeated, trapped inside my own mind.
The words were so powerful that they became my reality, something that isn't flesh and bones is treating me like a puppet, something to play with, something to bring pain to. And there was no way to escape, I had tried climbing my way up. But it was too deep- as soon as I saw the sunlight again, they would bring me back down. Giving me hope and the ripping it away from me again- like a used bandaid on the same wound.
They drove me to do things I swore I'd never do. Made a mess of body, stopped loving it, taking care of it, hurt it as if it was its fault I was feeling that way- it wasn't. But, I found nothing else to distract myself with, to take away the pain. It made me temporarily forget about the booming voices inside my conscience, even if only for a moment, it silenced them. Fear was getting the best of me, there was nobody to help me.
I wanted the comfort of someone's hand in mine, telling me it was gonna be all fine, someone who would hold me in the darknest of nights and even the shiniest days. Someone who would make me love myself, so I could also love them in return. Because, I was slowly fading away- alone. A nightmare, drugged and not able to wake up. My past self was gone, where did he go? People missed him, but he had been dead long ago.
I thought there was no escape, I was running out of hope and there was nobody there to reassure me. But, I was wrong. He went into the heart of the storm, into the closed doors of my heart, walking in without efforts. He worked for months, made sure to destroy my chained heart, made sure it was beating for him and I. Took me out of the prison which was my own mind, he pulled me out effortlessly. I tried building up higher walls, made sure not a soul could make it through, but he broken them down as well. Jungkook was like an angel, he saved me from myself. And I would be forever grateful for it.
