I am so exhausted, yet my brain continues to run in circles, which provides me with enough energy to still be awake. Sleep is apparently only for the happy and the dead. I wish I could say the last time I had a decent nights sleep but it has been far too long ago for me to recall. Lately I have still felt alone even though I am closer with more than I ever have been in my life. It is as though happiness is being dangled in front of my nose, but I am not able to grab it. The more I try the worse it seems to get. Uncertainty and indecision torture me until I have no more strength to stand. I have no energy anymore and few things actually make sense. Does anyone really want me? Does she even love me? I fear the worst and nothing can comfort me. The more and more positive news I hear the worse and worse I feel. What would cheer anyone else up only adds more fuel to the already rampant fire. You say I’m good enough yet there is always a but. The youthful vigor, which coursed through my veins, has been replaced by poisonous doubt. I see anything positive as twofaced or I have to break it down until there is nothing good about it anymore. Analyzing and re-analyzing have become my daily tasks. The famine created by my mind has decimated the fruits of happiness. I am trapped behind the cold steel of isolation and my only comfort is the row of iron bars, which say nothing more than hello and goodnight. Looking out my cell window, I see way off in the distance my Spanish rose. Oh how I miss her so. She is in bloom this time of year and I want to be there to pick her so she can always be with me. I cherish everything about that rose. With every winter storm and summer drought she still stands as vibrant as ever. There is no other rose like it and I only want her. I have walked many miles, but I am willing to go to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes to have this rose. Until that day I shall be enslaved to fear and doubt; until then I will not be free.
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