The Horizon

When in doubt or when the heavy blanket of fear would cover me up to my neck, the horizon would keep me from being engulfed completely.

Now, it's left me. It doesn't hide in my peripheral or the blind spot in the back of my head. It's gone.

Every day is a battle. Suffering. The blanket of fear is now over my head. 

The horizon has abandoned me. The horizon of hope and dreams, of inspiration and positivity. When shaken and not stirred with life's violence, I could, at least, peer off into the horizon and find peace. 

I'm at war now. I'm sorry to say my score isn't a good one. I'm losing. Nothing new, right? I've always been the loser. On the losing team. The non-achiever, the quitter, the guy who never shows up even when everyone is watching. That's been me my whole life. I'm not meant to win, and I know it now. 

My dreams were always that, weren't they? Poor Jason. If I could only tell him, maybe when he was in high school, he would've tried. He wouldn't have skipped football practice to walk home with Natalie. He wouldn't have been kicked off the team if he stayed at practice. He could've had a varsity jacket. Gone to prom. 

Poor Jason. He would've been a sailor if I could tell him to stay seated at Navy boot camp. Traveled the world. He stood up, the idiot. He stood up. 

 I'm alone. My world is quiet, and I'm alone. My thoughts keep me company even when I hate them. They say one thing and then another. Criss-cross. Back and forth. Up and down. Until I trip and trip and trip. My body is bruised, and my spirit is covered in scabs.

Oh well. Poor Jason.

The horizon is gone, and I no longer dream.

I'm no longer at peace.