Sitting in a corner with a bunch of thoughts and negative air - somehow seems like a routine. I looked at this device in my hand, put on a few of my favourite songs and went into a deep world of thoughts. A world of my own where it was only me and all those thoughts that killed me, moreover, I realise it was me who shot myself down every night as I closed the door behind me and I slid down with my knees folded and head buried down with tears of pain rolling down my cheeks. Being weak till an extent where I couldn't scream nor could I cry as there were no tears left. But here I am, writing. Hoping it had gotten better. I Looked at my wrist, thought about a lot of things going on in my head, as I felt my eyes getting wet and the heat in my body increase, I closed my eyes and a stream of tears flowed from the side. I still sat there, did not have the strength to move, but then, having no option, I gathered courage, wiped my face with the edge of my shirt and walked out with a smile. I don't know what was going inside then, because I was out of the breaking down phase of the day. Once that was done, I knew the next phase had be the one where I was all happy and cheerful again, for others to be happy. To do something I love doing, making people happy. I still do it, every time. What can I say, it gives me courage, knowing that there is something more important outside that I need to do than weeping on the floor and hoping for life to end.
The end is never with us, a book never ends on an incomplete note, a boat never stops till it reaches the shore and I will drive courage in me until I know that it's time for the pages to end and the boat to come on standstill and sink within the deepness of staying at a place.