Friday, 3 September 2010

...a guardian angel

I have something that is worrying me. Something, someone. I need to be a guardian angel and have the omnipresence that that would bring, but I can't be.

I was going to say that I've realised worrying is an exhausting activity, but it's not that I have only just realised this but rather that I have remembered this fact. I have worried like this before and felt, and seen, the effects of that. It sort of takes over your head; even when you're not thinking about it...you somehow are. It dilutes hunger, saps energy and dulls the highs.

I want to have answers and aid; I want to have a wand to wave over it all and Bernard's watch to turn back the time. I want to be able to reassure and mend. I don't know how though.

This isn't a cry for help, but more a temporary relief of sorts. A sigh. A release, for a moment, of the tension that is keeping me tense. A way of letting it out.

It's a shout of frustration, in words.

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