i can do things, get out of bed, laugh, have fun, think life can be beautiful, yadayadayada. but then go outside for a second or lay in bed for a second or sit in a chair for a second and feel like i've snapped out of something. like i'm in a trance that's become physical and somehow told my legs to stop working. and let my brain know that it's curtain call for telling myself i'm done. that it's time to stop feeling good for as long as we're alone. or when we're with people and it gets a bit too loud or we get so tired all of a sudden and all we can do is put headphones on in bed in a room full of people and not have motivation to get up to pee. it doesn't help when i go to sleep sad when my girlfriend won't kiss me because of something in their brain telling them they can't. it doesn't help when i try and cuddle with them in bed but i sleep on my side and hope they role over from their back to cradle me and put their hand around my hips. (i'd bookmark that to keep me through the nights during the ad breaks when they ask me not to kiss them.) But they don't and i frown to the wall in the dark. or they do roll over and i feel like crying because my spiraling will finally stop. but they don't put their hand on my hip and only the wall will see my pained expression. when all i have to do is turn around, slip my hand underneath their back and let it go numb and rest the other hand on their hip and hope that one day they'll build up enough courage to do the same thing to me. but i don't tonight. i'm too tired of setting the pace. they take their arm off me and turn their back to me in a slumber and i feel sick. i hate when i'm right in all my wrong thoughts. the walls, my only spectator, feel like they're caving in on me and my breath speeds. i get out of bed and they'll ask if i'm okay and i'll mumble that i'm feeling claustrophobic, gather my things, choke back tears and thank the night for being so dark. i'll leave abruptly behind the godforsaken walls. and you.