Crissy sits down on the edge of her bed, her arms at her sides. Her hands grab at the sheets but the soft cotton seems to slip through her fingers despite her best efforts. It seems like nothing can be held on to any more, not her sheets, not her friends, some days not even her life.

The pillow cradles her head as Crissy lies back. It is comforting knowing that something remembers her shape, even if it is just her pillow. God knows that boy doesn't anymore. She saw him the other day. He ordered a coffee in the shop where she was reading a novel. She recited his order along with him, repeated it back like the cashier did. Medium coffee. Two cream. One sugar. A chocolate muffin. It was a familiar to her as her own skin, she had relayed it to cashiers often enough. It was not so different from her own. Medium coffee. Two milk. One sugar. A raspberry muffin. They had been perfect in so many ways. But perhaps coffee is not the way to judge whether a relationship is going to work out or not.

Back then things seemed so easy. But when everything came crashing down…

Everything seems to come all at once, Crissy thinks, lying on her back, staring up at her ceiling. He was gone. Then so were all of the girls who had been beside her for years. All disappeared into the mist that had started to cloud her mind the second she heard those fated words. And as much as she tried to bring them back, they had turned around and ignored her cries for help.

But the singular depression at losing everyone and everything simultaneously hit her hard and that is how she came to be lying flat on her back, not on the bed but on the kitchen floor, staring up at the light fixture and wondering when it would all just end.

But that was weeks ago. Time passes, as she has found out. All the magazine articles say it. All the young adult novels repeat it. But until you experience the passing of time nothing can convince you that it actually moves forward when it feels like it should stop.

Now, lying in the same position, Crissy remembers how the cold tile felt against her back and she shivers, sitting back up quickly to avoid a full blown flashback.

If anything the dreary weather outside makes her mood darker, but she has resolved not to let the black moods take over her life anymore. She avoids triggers, staying away from the people who once made her fly and now make her sink.

Because even though time passes, and people fade away, the self is never going to leave. Crissy knows she can try to escape it, try to avoid who she is and who she was, but it will always be waiting for her when she turns back around.