Her letter: Drowned in her own abyss | Writing

Existing is somehow easy, living isn't..

I've always caught myself opening my eyes, slightly blinded by the sun's glow through the pure white curtains.. Truly, once that shine lays on my eyes, I know that everyone outside has a smile drawn on their faces, even the flowers of different colors have bloomed with that raindrop from the storm of yesterday night.

Speaking of that storm -- my mind's hectic.

I always hated the thought of happiness.. No, not because I didn't want anyone to be that serendipitous.. But only for I can't be on the same line with them, I admit, I am envious.. too jealous that I have ran out of paint to draw that so-called 'greatest curve' on my face.. e-ever since that tragic day..

Usually, at 5:00 o'clock in the afternoon, I go straight back to my house to grab my keys and a picnic basket.. just to head to the beach. Who doesn't like watching the sunset? I mean, that red-to-yellow gradient with sometimes a hint of blue and purple.. isn't it all mesmerizing? I have always drowned in quietude as I watch it like it's painted on a canvas..

Except..

Going back to that tragic day.. I can't be any more specific than that.. But I remember myself walking towards the sea, I just kept walking until the water's pulling me down to drown. The last thing I remember -- I've been saved.

---

After that, I just keep lying on my bed.. I never opened the curtains, nor welcomed the sun. Its glow was enough.. I never wanted to see it set nor rise.. For it -- it reminds me of myself, sinking, setting down.. and -- drowning in -- in my own abyss.