Something is wrong, you know that things come back and you can't deal with it. Sometimes the past comes to us, without asking us for permission. You don't have the strength to fight, you are weak. You spend every day in bed, because only in this place you feel safe. You run away from people. You struggle with yourself. Give up.
"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
- Oscar Wilde