12:04

Initially, I planned to write a fairly spiteful diary entry, but I think I'll split this up into two posts because my perspective has definitely diverged.

After being offered and accepting tickets to what was promised to be the happiest place on Earth with a person of utmost significance to me, I felt like the luckiest being.
Prior to being offered that ticket, I was already fairly content with where I was. But if something so exciting and so beautiful is handed to you like that, could anyone refuse such a gift? Naiveness and curiosity took over.
The first months of the journey were brimming with promise. I can't even recall a time that could ever measure up to the degree of my happiness - the degree of my love for life and everything that was a part of it. I felt it inside of me. I blossomed. And I strived to grace those in my presence with my fragrance, with beauty and with light.
But during that journey, during that risk, the ship that held everything I had hoped for hit an iceberg. And despite every last bit of my energy that went towards saving it, despite my piercing screams for help, despite practically sacrificing everything that I am, I was incapable of reviving the ship. I was incapable of doing it alone.
And so everything that I had hoped for was lost.
But I still stand.
Only, I stand alone on a small island, having lost my best friend and having lost my own identity.
And for some reason, I feel as though standing here on this deserted chunk of land, with only memories of what once were, is so much worse than having drowned in the ocean.