I would run and sit by the river.
It was the only place that felt quiet. The only place where I could breathe, where the world didn’t feel so heavy on my chest. The water moved the way I wished I could—free, untouchable, always moving forward.
I’d sit on the edge, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the ripples, the slow, steady current. I liked to think that if I stepped in, the river would just carry me away, take me somewhere far from here.
Somewhere where nobody can hurt me.
One day, I’ll be free, one way or another.
Because life is just too hard here.
Too much pain, too much control, too much of him. Every day is just another fight to exist, another reminder that I don’t belong to myself. I wake up exhausted, go to bed feeling the same.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
I don’t want to be anywhere anymore.
The river keeps flowing. It doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. It just moves.
And I wonder if I ever will.