There were times when I looked out my rented window and wished the windows were big enough to jump. I was a happy person once. No more do I ever laugh until it hurts. What I’m trying to say is: I hadn’t made it. Not yet.
I had started to stutter from chugging all those cough syrups during that one year. Loneliness and being broke did that to me, No amount of prayer took me back in time or forward. I did not even discover a bag full of money. It all didn’t happen.
My introversion had paralyzed me. I didn’t leave my room when I heard a sound outside. A knock on the door would startle me. Sleep coddled me and was my only escape from reality.
At the time, it seemed wise to cut off ties with as many people as possible. In the coming days, I would spend around $700 to purchase “in-game” money for a card game on my phone. That was rent I had asked from Dad.
That was years ago. I wish someone would call me from my past but nobody does. Nothing ever happens anymore. I earn my rent now in a different country, at a different job. I don’t yearn for the past anymore because there was only darkness.