prose before hoes

How can I keep going to this place? Am I really such a beast? So ruled by hormones and chemicals? Such a fine machine, the human body. An impulse, a spark and the system reels. How can you recover from it. There is no starting over, try again. Sorry better luck next time. How about a rematch? I’ll choose my weapons more wisely this time. Promise. Promise I will do better. Try harder, be tougher. Tough skin, tough shell. Hard hard hard. No breaking me down. I probably won’t even notice you, buzzing around. So insignificant you will try to bite and I won’t even flinch. In the meantime, the wind from your tiny wings is ripping my skin. Too delicate for words. The weakest. Just a small imbalance and then chaos. So poorly designed. Whose idea was this anyway.

fragment of a random dialogue on getting over it

She spat angrily at him, “That’s easy for you to say, “ eyes blazing she struggled with her fury “You have no idea-“
“No,” he cut her off, “I don’t. No one does.” He continued strumming on the guitar. “It isn’t meant to be harsh, but it’s necessary.”
“How?” She asked, still incensed but the luminous quality to her eyes belied her emotions. He never stopped playing but did meet her gaze.
“One day.” He said softly. “Just make it one day.”
“And?” she snapped but couldn’t mask her curiosity.
“Then one more.” He smiled sadly. “Keep going. Then some day-“ He grinned now. “Someday you just wake up and see the world again.”