Does anybody know what eternity feels like?
I do. I believe that everyone has their own versions of it, rooted from their own individual circumstances. For some, eternity is the lonely white halls of a waiting room.
For others, eternity is traffic on a Monday morning in peak hour.
For me, eternity is hell.
Eternity is my skin secreting puddles of sweat. Eternity is my inner wall crashing down in the midst of a vulnerable state. Eternity is my chest pulsating rapidly, attempting to punch its way out like a bouldering brute in a bar.
Eternity is the absence of sound in the room, the entire space turns into a blank canvas of straight nothing. Eternity is the look on her face after announcing that I liked her. Eternity is the muffled symphony of voices filling my head with shotgun blasts of regret.
Eternity is the craving ache to know what she’s thinking and feeling. Eternity is the illusion of happiness, the constant back and forth battle of whether or not I’m worth it. Eternity is the fear of complete and utter rejection, the most promising door being irreversibly closed shut.
Eternity is the blur of everything else in the room, right down to the last particle, willingly impairing my field of vision. Eternity is the churning of my stomach, attempting to twist and turn itself into a crazed cyclone shape. Eternity is the sudden ache of my legs as it transforms the very fibre of its foundation to jelly, struggling to stay standing.
Eternity is the slow of time as I watch thousands of black strands dance together in the light breeze. Eternity is the attack on my deepest insecurities, plunging me into the deep dark blue of overthinking. Eternity is the journey into my memories that have come and gone, rethinking my entire life and how it led me to this exact moment, in this exact state.
Eternity is tough, but I’m forced to endure because the answer, whatever the answer, is better than a long life of what ifs.
“I like you too.”