Not

"I'm not alright." I want to say, but when the words come out of my mouth, they sound different.

"I want to cry", I think; but the only sound I can make, is laughter, and the only thing you'll see on my face, is a smile.

"I'm not fine." I want to scream, preferably in the face of the person who asked how I'm doing, but my throat closes, and my brain doesn't seem to obey.

"I'm frustrated", I want to be honest, but... I'm all out of buts. I've got no excuse to cover up my lies and insecurities.

"I'm not okay." I want to say, "I'm okay." Is what I say.

I don't know if I'm grateful that my brain doesn't obey my heart or I hate him for it, "but maybe that's the wise thing to do." My brain says.

I wonder where did all those "Nots" go? My brain has no answer for this.

I wonder...Maybe the "Not" got lost. In my mess of a life. In my mess of lies. Under my blanket of fears. Somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere.

Maybe the "Not" got lost. Someday, somewhere along the way.

Maybe the "Not" got lost on the road from my heart, to my brain.

Maybe the "Nots" are all somewhere in my body. Somewhere in my blood circulom. In my veins. Wandering around.

I wonder... Would I bleed "Nots"?

Funny. I always thought I would bleed regrets.

But now that I think about, it doesn't seem that unlikely. Maybe one day, I'd die because all the "Nots" in my blood blocked my vessels and closed them up. All the "Nots" that I didn't use. That I should've used. That I didn't dare use. That I didn't know how to use, how to put to good use. That I didn't know who to use with. That I didn't know who to trust with.

Maybe the "Not" didn't get lost at all. Maybe all of them met my trust issues and decided to kill themselves.

Maybe they're all dead. Like me. Like my thoughts. Like my emotions. Like every damn thing in my body and mind.

Maybe the "Not" ran away. Decided they're better off somewhere else. Somewhere they can be used in sentences. Not wasted. Somewhere they can express themselves. And not get caught in a closed throat. Unable to come out, unable to not. Unable to turn into tears and free themselves from this prison. This pathetic me.

Maybe Even my "Nots" hate me.

Or maybe not.

Maybe they're still in my brain waiting, bravely, To help me. Maybe they will come in handy one day... Naaah, who am I kidding? They're all gone. Been gone for long time now. I can't even remember the last time I told a friend that I'm not okay. Probably because of my lack of friends, not my lack of "Nots". But that's a story for another time.

Or maybe... I wonder... Maybe the "Not" met the other words in my vocabulary. Maybe all the other sentences that I regret using, that I regret not using, all the other words that I don't use, they all decided to team up together. To do something. I don't know what, just to do something. I still hope they like their new life. I hope they're happy. Happier than me.

Or maybe the "Not" did get lost! And met other lost words along the way. Maybe that's how they met, And made a secret society.

I used too much "maybes", didn't I? I always mess this up. Pay too much attention to something, and too little to something else. It's a bad habit. Paying little attention to something you care about. To something that cares about you. Bad habits. Bad habits.

Whatever happened to my "Nots", I like to apologize. I like to say I'm sorry. That I'm really sorry.

I hope one day I gain the ability to use them again. Maybe I should solve my issues first. And then find someone to talk to.

That's one tricky task. Because every time I struggle to find my foothold, it seems to get better, only to get worse than ever before.

But maybe...

Just maybe...

if I find the right person and the right words...,

Maybe then, everything can be alright again.

Maybe then, I can tell them "I'm not okay", and they will do anything, anything to make it okay.