I can’t stop.

Spring is supposed to come tomorrow. In earth’s orbital pattern only.
It certainly isn’t in warmth.

I listen to the same songs on repeat again. And drudge through the past. 
“Hello my old heart. It’s been so long since I’ve given you away.”
There is a dreary drabness to the end of winter. Dirty snow. Salty streets. Tired from months of sedentariness.

I keep hitting the surface. Air grasping. Arms flailing. And… unlike drowning in movies, the real act is like sinking. No movement. No screams. It just is.
I have nightmares of dark water. I can’t stop. 

Finding a strange relief in the familiarity of sadness.
Finding an agonizing present in sinking into the familiarity of the past.

I don’t know how to bury my frustrations. To quell anxieties about why I chose you.
And. There she is again.
Waking up with arms reaching into the dark. Wondering what the next curve in the road is hiding.
She can’t stop worrying. 

I’ve been working. Not stopping. I can’t stop.
Not even for long enough to call a doctor. To figure things out. The fear stops me. Maybe it’s anticipation and not fear. Resolve. It’s resolve more than anything.

I haven’t felt like this in years.
Seasonal depression maybe? I hope spring brings a strong breeze to kick out all the cobwebs. The dust bunnies under the chairs from lack of sweeping. Lack of tending.

I am paralyzed until the sun comes back.
Right now, I can’t train myself to transplant the past. How do you excavate those memories? Those feelings?
Sometimes I don’t even think about it. But days like today, when I awake from dreams and don’t know where I am…

Those days, I just can’t stop.