"...help..."
My desperate cry for help began as a whisper, slipping spontaneously from my lips. Late at night, alone in my darkened house, I couldn't sleep, I had paced miles of circles my house. I was hopelessly thinking in circles, too. Over and over I reconsidered what I had said; what she had said. What I did; what she did. What I would do next... or not.
I had been anxiously, compulsively recollecting the same miserable scenario for weeks, months, many months. I was trapped, and there was no way out. I was lonely, and I hated that my phone rarely rang. But I dreaded it every time it did; it seemed like the only news I got was bad news.

(Ayil Benyamin)
Valley Center, CA