You fall to the concrete hard as you try to think of what got you where you were. You begin to wonder where you went wrong, where the wrong turn was made. You lie there looking up at the sky, you weren't surprised you were there. You knew that this was going to come sooner rather then later, you were expecting it to come; and that's why you weren't surprised it was happening.
If you expect good things and strive to be happy, all you will ever get is fucking disappointment. If you expect the worst, the worst possible thing you can fucking imagine, live it and feel it; when it happens you won't be surprised, you'll be expecting it, you'll be waiting for it. Sometimes you even hope for it, want it, dream about it. Most likely the worst possible thing that could happen is what you deserve, and you want to punish yourself.
You want to punish yourself, you want your life to be terrible because your whole life you were told you were nothing, a piece of trash, a worthless screw up. And after awhile you can't help but believe what they say, and you have learned to live with it and it doesn't bother you like it used to when you were a kid. You have learned to live up to everyone else's expectations.
It's not that you feel sorry for yourself, fuck pity, fuck hoping for the best because you already know it ain't gonna happen. Not for you.
And for so long you have come to expect the worst, you have experienced the worst; hell your whole life has literally been one big, bad situation. But you're used to it, it's your life, you've been living it for seventeen goddamn years.
You've become immune to all the bad shit; it's almost unnatural for something good to actually happen. But when it does… when you manage not to fuck everything up, when you catch that break; the break you rarely get – it's amazing. It's bliss, it's like for just a couple of seconds you think that maybe… just maybe, you can actually be happy.
But it never lasts long and even though you know it won't last; you are still expecting the worst to happen, you can't help but feel lost when that two seconds of happiness is gone.
And when it's gone, it's almost as if it didn't happen at all and before you know it you forget what it's like to feel that bliss, that safety; that complete and utter happiness. You don't even fucking remember that stupid feeling until you got those two seconds again, those two fucking seconds of weakness.
It could be days, weeks, months, sometimes even years before you get those short two seconds again. It ain't that bad either, waiting for that feeling 'cuz it's so easy to forget, to simply return to thinking the worst. And forgetting makes the wait bearable, instead you think about the important things. Things like where you were going to sleep that night and if you were going to eat that day.
Sometimes those two seconds really pissed you off. It pissed you off because it was so hard to believe that some people felt that way all the time, and you'd hate to admit that that made you envy them. But most of all it pissed you off because you knew you didn't deserve an ounce of happiness, you didn't deserve those two seconds; and even though you didn't deserve it, you still fucking felt it and that pissed you off to no end. It made you feel weak, as if you were giving in to some kind of temptation and it made you sick to your stomach that you weren't tough enough, you weren't strong enough. It scared you that there was something that you couldn't control.
It annoyed you, but as much as you hated it, as much as you tried to avoid it, it would literally scare the shit outta you if those two seconds disappeared.
It was almost like you strived for those two seconds, those two seconds that made everything okay, and as much as you hated those two goddamn seconds, you wanted them; and that made your blood boil.
Sometimes the worst part was waiting. Waiting for those two seconds could be agony. And every minute you had to wait for those two seconds, it made you even more bitter and cold then you were before. And the older you got, those two seconds seemed to take longer and longer to fucking show up; you got older and older and you got meaner and meaner.
It actually fucking scared you that eventually those two seconds weren't ever gonna come back and you would forever live dark and empty. You knew you were already halfway there, halfway to the darkness and the emptiness. You were only fucking seventeen and you were fucking halfway there. It was pathetic and you knew it, but you couldn't help it.
Even if you could, you wouldn't change it because it was better this way. It was better to have only those two seconds, better because you didn't have to feel anything afterwards, you never got distracted or hurt. You were like a zombie, walking around not really giving a flying fuck about anything or anyone. You just didn't care what happened.
Maybe it was the not caring that landed you here. Laying on the cold concrete you half wonder if the concrete is as cold as you are. You feel the warmth from underneath you and you suddenly realize that it's coming from you, and you ask yourself how something so warm could be coming from someone like you.
You could feel the hot lead inside of you, burning more and more with every second. You start thinking that this might be it, that you weren't gonna recover this time. You weren't invincible or untouchable like so many had thought you were, you were just a kid; and for the first time in a long time you finally realize that
You lie there and rest your head against the cold. You take your last breath and smile when you realize that your two seconds had finally come again.
