Panic Attacks
I thought that I was never going to stand tall again. I thought that I was forever broken, nothing more than damaged goods, lying around still and lifeless amongst the rest of the pieces of shattered glass scattered about in this deserted warehouse we call life. Every time I used to hold her hands and ask her wondering if things will ever get back to how they were, I'd doubt her when she'd look at me, smile beautifully, and tell me with all the confidence in the world that it'll pass the way everything else we have been through had passed. I love her so much, I'd then think to myself and smile back silently, holding in my pain, fear, and doubt away from what her eyes could see, protecting her from feeling helpless and in chains. I was sweating, lightheaded, and breathing with difficulty. I was terrified. Death felt close, hovering around, leaving me to my torture while watching in exhilaration before deciding to take my soul. The sound of my heart was loud enough