The hill was our lives. Our kingdom, our world, our place to do whatever we wanted. Whether it was slip and slide on a hot summer day. Or an igloo in the snow. I could remember it vividly as if it were yesterday, the best snow day of my life.
Sledding down the hill with the snow still dumping, running inside for hot chocolate with extra marshmellows. The silence was broken only by our laughter and the occasional sound of snow falling off a branch as the snow continued to fall. At the time the hill seemed huge, occasionally slipping on the way up, but then again I was short. Now, only a few feet higher than I was, the hill seemed smaller, more worn out, less exciting. The tree on the top seemed defeated, its branches drooping lifelessly from its trunk. The hill was like me, lifeless, empty, worn out, done. It mocked me, but even though it worn, the memories were still strong, looking back on the better days.
I wanted to sit there all night, reliving the memories over and over again, to escape my current state, whatever my current state is. Eventually, defyingly, I stood up and walked away.
I’m thankful for the escape, I went for a walk tonight in 13 degree weather to search for an escape, and i’m glad i found it. I am so done right now, so tired, so worn out, so angry, so sad, so lonely, so empty, so nothing. I don’t even know. I want to cut…whether its to take my ever growing and explosive anger out on something, to be numb, to escape the numbness and nothingess, to feel something…im not sure.