Huddled in the corner of his bed he sat, hugging his pillow, his cover partially over his legs. Back to the wall and head facing upwards, he cringed. It wasn't his fault that he had depression and social anxiety, he tried his very best to love the people around him, even though he would always fall short. His feelings taunted him, he wanted to love and he wanted to be able to interact with the people around him, however he could never do it.
Clenching his pillow he sobbed, voice muffled, eyes dry for he could no longer cry, no matter how much he wanted to, and he really wanted to. To feel was something that has always left a bittersweet taste on his tongue, because when he did, it was emptiness. He slid onto his side wondering what he did to deserve this, how could things possibly get any better. Though he thought the more important question was how things would get worse, what else would the universe take from him?
He reiterated the same words that he often thought after thinking about his future. These words were those that could cause him both pain and peace, knowing that were they to happen things would subside and he would have nothing more to fear. Not the loss of his dream or chasing it. He set aside his pillows and blankets and listened to the beautiful music that echoed throughout the room and resonated with his soul.
As he calmed down he thought about his dreams and the people he looked up to, wondering what they would say were they to ever meet. He thought about finding and feeling love, real love, not the type of one sided love that had him swooning over the disgustingly inconsiderate soul that he poured his heart out to. He hoped to find the person that would love him for him soon, because with everything he felt like he was going to be too late.
Too late to experience the type of love that keeps people together to the end of their existence, too late to chase his dreams, thinking that he wouldn't be able to fit in the way he wanted to. Thinking that for the rest of his life he would just be reacting to whatever happened to him, caught in a swirling spiral of tricks and traps. He couldn't imagine a life where the things that he wanted, that he craved would come true.
He didn't know that anything was possible and that the heart he was carrying was more than enough for him and his world. He didn't know that things could go his way, if it was even possible for them to go his way. He was unaware of the hope that has flown around the world waiting for someone to latch on so they can fly with it. That his dreams were possible and could be achieved, that he could change the world for the better. No matter what, these types of thoughts never filled his mind, he never had anyone to help him realize this, and he was always waiting for someone to help him. Though maybe he should just get up and help himself.
It would be hard seeing as he has his heavy heart, a recovering mind, and a changing body. He needed to know that he could do it, that the next door in front of him would be the answer to his dreams, to the long awaited question, that he held deep in his soul. Was it possible for him to be happy?