My fairy tale has not been written or if it has, it never ends well.
I have lost count of all the rainy days spent in solemn. Time crawled ever so slowly counting raindrops in their descent.
What defines us? Our mistakes, our lost loves, our endurance through pain or such moments when time eludes us and we just are.
Emotions are a powerful force, they creat and destroy so freely. An array exists, individual emotions are beautiful creators. Mixed emotions intertwine, these are the worst of all, they form a collision. This is nothingness.
No longer a part of the living, identity has been lost. Your desires are non existent. Social luncheons no more, pleasure of simple enjoyments gone, melodies you danced to lost their sound to the ear, rhythm no more. Nothing remains for taste to the buds.
All that remains are involuntary functions. And so you survive. Living has gone, survival took its place.