When there is a day or a stretch of days or a year that is so hard that all the sweetness goes out of the sky, when Music is no longer luscious, and food and fabrics and words are leeched of all their precious taste and touch and the lists of life's amazements mock rather than comfort, when someone says, "I love you" and you say, "It doesn't matter," this is as bad as it gets. It isn't a question of pills and razorblades but of walking out of your own life forever and not even stopping to say goodbye.
Walking until you just dissolve, and who knows what's become of you?
Unless someone says, "It matters to me."
It's a pin through the heart and it hurts but it keeps you there. It's a chain of names and faces far too heavy but they anchor you.
You cannot drift; you will not come to nothing.
When it is as bad as it gets, balanced on that edge and about to fall
there is nothing left that can be done, or undone or wished or said except, "I love you, that is all."
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