My friends want nothing more than to be loved, to have that person to call their own. They want a person to whom they can hand over a part of themselves and know that it will be safe. They want that rush when you look at that person and realize that it’s where they’re meant to be. They want the warmth that comes when you look into their eyes. To walk up that aisle and know that they will be yours forever.

Other people want to friends. To laugh, and cry, and be themselves. They want a person to confide in. They don’t want to cry for themselves anymore.

Some people want money, to be able to go home and know that they will have food on the table, to be able to watch their children smile when they receive that new toy.

You don’t really hear about people wanting anything else in all those magazines and web pages. You don’t hear about the people who want to stop. Stop drinking. Stop smoking. Stop cutting. Or the people who want to start. Start eating, start talking, start living. Start feeling.



You don’t really hear about those people who want to die. To feel that last breath escape their lips, to feel the numbness slowly creep into them. Those people feel nothing but relief when the day comes. The blood slips away, the black covers the eyes. The very life leave the shell that is a human body. It feels like a breath of air when you rise from the water, the sound of the perfect song, the end of a long day.

Me? I just want to dream; to leave the confinement of the real world, and to sleep forever. I want to run away into my own head. I want to escape from the murders, the injustice, the poverty, the sadness. It’s so much better in my head.