this shall not pass.

There was a small hope of light blinking through the whole year, and now it’s shattered.

I always imagined that if this little hope ever disappeared, I would cry, panic, scream everything out.

But when it actually happened, I don't felt fear, and not a single tear came.

It’s like my whole body already knew this moment was coming.

I did everything I could this year. Strategy, mental health, spirituality, every part I could control, I tried.

I think I played my part, and he gave me full autonomy, but now I can see his smile on the corner of my walls.

He is laughing at me, not because I failed, but because I tried.

He’s been with me for three years. He always said he wouldn’t take me away.

He said I would be the one to give myself to him.

All these years, I used to wonder why I should.

But now everything feels clear, like those delusional eyelids finally opened.

My room and I are soaked in misery and chaos.

If I step out and ask for help, my darkness will spill onto my friends and the people close to me.

I don’t want that. I don’t want any of them dragged into this.

So I pushed them away, harshly and deliberately.

Now it feels like he’s the only one here.

I can feel his breath in the air, the thickness and coldness filling the room.

I hate this air because it makes me feel his presence.

The darkness, the December 7 cold around my room,

the bulb trying to throw light on me, scattering through the molecules,

and yet the darkness stays.

He controls my room now.

My appetite, my sleep, everything feels under his control.

He says God should apologize to me.

And I think he’s right.

If God comes to my room, he doesn’t need to ring the bell

or slip off his slippers at the door.

He can enter as he is.

But I won’t forgive him.

Never.

Because my God is cheap; he tried to buy me through fear, through blackmail.

I’m not forgiving him.

He can enter my room, say sorry to me, and then leave.

I want nothing now.

My body aches with pain.

I had everything: intelligence, smartness, potential, the will to live.

But somehow I slipped and dropped all of it on a path I can’t even identify anymore.

And now I don’t care enough to go searching for it.

There isn’t time.

And hope

hope is the most delusional thing I’ve ever faced.

The biggest scam in human evolution.

It keeps every person clinging to the future until death,

even when that future never existed in the first place.

But his whispering makes everything clear.

He cuts through all the delusion.

He talks to me constantly now.

He tells me loving yourself is just possession of a body,

and the body isn’t even yours.

He says if you care about someone else’s body, you owe them something.

Time is moving so slowly.

Every second feels like the clock hand is cutting through my skin.

This time, it feels like this moment will not pass.

I’m proud that I fought this long,

and I think I’ve given everything I had.