Fight or Flight

Everyone says there are two options. It’s either fight or flight. Those are your choices when it comes to survival.

Try to out run the enemy or risk the chance of being run over. Good odds eh.

But, I personally don’t believe those are your only two options. I think that the human body has way more options then fight or flight when it comes to survival – depending on what exactly you are trying to survive.

Like anger. Walls up. Guns loaded. No turning back until your enemy is well wounded in front of you – at all costs – and then a few extra shots just to be safe.

But, then the dust begins to settle and the smoke stops pouring from your metaphorical pistol.

And then the tears start pouring from your eyes instead.

And they don’t stop. No matter what you do they just won’t stop. Even dehydration doesn’t stop your soul from expressing itself. Trust me – I’ve tried.

After this your body begins to catch on to the pain that your soul has been grieving. And it begins to grieve too.

First with food – absolutely everything makes you want to throw up. From your favourite food – to that ice cream bar that he always tried to steal a bite out of – to water.

Absolutely everything that you try to put into your body for strength and power and survival will be rejected – to the point where you just stop trying because you can’t spend any more time on the cold bathroom floor.

Next, you’ll stop sleeping. Regardless of how physically and mentally  exhausted you are. Even though your eyes are blurry and burning. Even if you count one million jumping sheep – you won’t sleep.

Because that would be an escape from this heartbreak and even your body doesn’t believe you deserve that.

And the image of him will fucking haunt you.

And the memories will dance through your mind.

And you will spend every second of every day wishing for your fight or flight instinct to kick back in, so that you can try with all of whats left from your broken heart, to just out run this pain and the boy that you used to know.

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