Like death

I'm not sure I can do it ever again. I've known nothing worse than its sharp grief and lingering consequences. I hope and pray that I never have to know it again, but maybe, just maybe, I might face it once more. The abrupt cutting off gives a taste similar to what death would bring. And it is metaphorically a death, an unbridgeable chasm. But perhaps it's worse than death because it comes through conscious choice, and is stained by your own errors.

And if it does happen I would need plenty, plenty, plenty of therapy.



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