Have you ever had an experience and you honestly need to talk to someone? It sits inside you and festers, reaching it's arms out and expanding through your organs, taking over your blood stream until it consumes you. A hollow existence. You try to tell someone, but it's taken over your limbs, starting with your fingers so that you can't communicate in any way physical, then it takes your facial muscles, striking you useless for anything even remotely close for the telling of important things. You end up sitting alone, feeling your body reject yourself, then wake up hours later feeling sore and sick.
Then you find that the person who caused this travesty upon you is conversing about it to his friends. They consume each word as if it were a rare honey only to be given to the worthy, and then purge everything to the next person who comes into their sight, construing the plot, dramatizing the characters, turning protagonist and antagonist around. All the meanwhile, the person who begun this cycle of lies is sitting back, watching his spider web grow string by sticky string. And the person who's life is ultimately changed? Still sitting in the bedroom with the door locked and wishing their fingers would just type in the right consonants and vowels to let that one person know they want help.
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