So, you really wanna know how I feel, right now, at this minute?
THIS:
borrowing from Meredith Grey when she drowned on dry land
Somehow, my head is still above the surface most of the time. I'm swallowing more air than water, but it's hardly reassuring because all I can see above the waves is the grungy rising wall of the docks. I seem to be slipping further and further from it, and I can hardly figure out how to hold my head above the water, let alone swim back towards the dark wall and its promise of solid ground.That's all there is to see; a promise of salvation that is becoming increasingly remote. That, and the gray-white nothingness of the sky overhead, mirroring the plunging void beneath me.
(to be continued... )
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