There's always that time when you feel lost. Lost as in there's nothing around you but grief and sadness. Soon the body is overcome by it, when it's so thick upon you that you can't even move. Arms stop trying to reach things past the second shelf; legs refuse to stand for there's no point in getting up any longer. Your brain swirling with the sadness others thrust upon you.

What does it mean when lips won't speak what the mind wants it to? What does it mean when everything seems to be falling apart and you don't have enough time to sew it back together before it is lost in a sea of guilt? It's like pressing harder on the buttons on the remote though you know the batteries are dead. Though you feel the rain pattering against your skin, seeping through your clothes it's not enough to bring you to reality, though sometimes the grief is better than the reality. Sometimes leaving the grief causes you to face it in reality though you know you can't pass it. But what is reality when broomsticks actually do fly and unicorns exist? How is that reality when wands can be waved and spells cast? For that is not the world of grief though reality is part of that world only because you walk and interact in it, but you are forever it seems consumed by it.

Frivolous anger, love, and war a never ending spiral that greets you when you step into reality. The war that seemed to be going on in your head has met reality just as feared. But of course it's only starting.