It's like this.

We're walking, all of us, we start when we're born, we get carried because we're too little to do it ourselves and then bit by bit we are let go to walk upright alone, people join us, some fall away and mostly we have to do it alone. There's nothing wrong with this, it's what we all do.

When great things happen to us we run, we sprint along the road under a sky filled with electric blue, hot pink and primrose yellow.... we bathe in the colours and they make us feel warm, time flies (cliches are cliches because they are true) and we never feel tired, it's like we could run forever.

I have stood still, this is the only way I can describe how life is now, why I haven't written, why I feel nothing, because I have stood still, one day I just stopped walking and now I am still, waiting to walk, I can see everyone around me walking, running, and I smile and laugh, because they want me to? because I want to? because you want me to be like you, to walk with you, to share with the reasons you are running, trips to far flung countries, weddings, exotic locations, romantic aspirations, I see them, they are wonderful, but I stand apart, I can see your colours and your race to get there, but I watch the grey around me and can see no reason to move.

Is it shock? That's a theory I have heard, that I had some bad news and now I have boxed myself up, wrapped myself in thick mist and will not think of it, but to not think of that means to think of nothing because that is everything, the reason and the solution. I cannot avoid any of it, delay any of it, there is damage and pain and I feel nothing about it, I am apathetic, truly. I was waiting to be a mess, I usually am about such things but this time.... the sky is grey, and I have stood still.

Maybe I don't want to move again, maybe still is ok. The sky has been black before, and I have forced a path through but this time, I think I will stay here.

Still.