[weeping]

It takes a lot of courage to face one's fears.

Everyone has their own defense mechanism. Mine is to inwardly scream. And then overthink. And then confront the problem. But for some reason, I think I should be doing something else. Like...

I don't know.

Sometimes I need a push. From someone else? Nah. More like from myself. I need to push myself into believing that I am strong enough. I am not giving myself the push I need, though.

Oh dear.

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I think I need to push... someone. Into not doing something I don't want this person to do. I don't know what to do about it. I am trying. I swear. I am trying to stop this person from doing something that I don't want this person to do. I am frightened. I don't want this to happened. Vertigo sweeps me away and then I collapse into nothingness. When I snap back to reality, I realize a numbness has overcome me and I couldn't think, nor much even speak. I wasn't given the opportunity to.

This person is such a good friend. I don't know how to stop it.

I am so sorry. I am. I am. I am. Please. Someone help...

***

Once upon a time--there was a little girl. I know some things about her, but I don't know her name. So, I apologize, dear Reader--but you won't know her name either.

She was a good little girl, I suppose. Or perhaps we can say that she tried to be a good little girl. Of course, I don't think the King and the Queen noticed. They locked her up in the highest tower, and told her that she needed to be a good little girl before they feed her or ever let her out again. She tried to be a good little girl, but--I don't think the King and Queen considered that she was being a good little girl. It wasn't good enough for them.

In fact, I suppose... that it wasn't good enough.

This little girl, she loved books. If there was one thing that can at least take her mind off the miserable things in life, it was books. The highest tower in the castle was the library, so even though this little girl was locked up and hungry, at least... at least there were some books to read.

One day, this little girl looked out the window and saw a little bird resting on the windowsill. There was nothing special about this little bird--except.

Except that it could fly. It could fly. Away. From everything.

This little girl smiled. It wasn't just the King and the Queen. It was everything around her. It was... nothing. Nothing was around her.

And then she jumped out the window, soaring. Soaring. Soaring. Soaring.

I am so sorry.

***
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