“I mean it,” they say.

It ties a knot in my throat. I feel like I’m not there anymore. I’m back to where I belong. I can’t speak. A single word uttered will leave me battered.

My words betray me as I struggle to form sentences. I sit there, mute, with a storm raging inside.

“I appreciate that,” I say.

I come back, and I don’t look back. I’m content, yet lost.

I close my eyes and hit the bed. The numbness gets carried away with the eyes bawling out.

The storm doesn’t rage anymore. I let it all out.

But the knot is still there. It doesn’t drown.

“When will I find mine?” I ask.

“When will I find mine?” I wonder.