You could ink yourself until everyone knows all the things you love. You could wear uniforms that gave you all the authority in the world. Lose weight until there was nothing left. Paint the face. Suck in your gut.
But in the dark, stripped down to your bones, all that remains is you.
Sometimes love is like a lightbulb in an empty room. It has the chance to go out, and when it does, we freeze up. We walk with eyes closed, finding a way out of the darkness, to bring light back once again.
But sometimes we don’t want the suffer the pain of bumping into anything, or getting hurt on our way out, so some of us stand still. We decide not to escape it, and our eyes get used to being open but seeing nothing at all.
Those people wait endlessly hoping that someone will find them, and they stand in fear, perfectly still until it happens.
