I think a person can feel the specific point when it all starts to fall apart. As if you could look at it on a map and say, "look there it was." But you can't really touch it. You can revisit it, dream it, hope it. But it stays the same. The morning comes and it's time to get up. Nothing has changed. The smile you wear begins to wear you. You remember that moment. The one where it all crumbled.

It's like walking down a long dark road lit only by the shadows of a fragmented heart. As if you can look down a long tunnel and see what used to be, but just as quickly as it opens the tunnel is closed. Stuck haunted by a place that can't possibly exist anymore. This is me. I exist only in the realm of your mind. Out here, i'm nothing more then the sound of a cool breeze. A cool breeze picking up and carrying away the thoughts of how things should have been.

You cry out in fear, begging and pleading to feel. To feel something, something other than pain. To feel what it's like to laugh at a joke, or smile at a compliment. This is me. Reaching for the unsuspecting truth. Hoping and believing that one day it will all be okay. Hoping and believing that they were right all along. Hoping and believing that maybe, just maybe, I really am alive.

But the beautiful tragedy is this. There is a moment when you realize that you are nothing more than a thought. The world doesn't stop just because your world has. Just because you've fallen and failed doesn't mean the game was called off. It never ends. Don't you see, this is me. This is who i am and who i've become. This is me.

This is the end.