This is a piece that, truth be told, I'm not sure where it came from. Alternate title is "Rescue Me".

From Ben's P.O.V.

Midnight Confessions
by Megan 'Fishstic' Wilkins


I can't sleep.

There's no logical reason why, but I feel guilty in a way. I'm not entirely sure why, either.

It's constantly there, this feeling of guilt. but sometimes, like now, it becomes an overwhelming swell, instead of the underlying tide of norm. Perhaps because I have been pondering the purpose of my existence. I know, intellectually, that I am worthy of all that life has to offer, but inside, I don't feel the same way.

I am afraid - afraid to open up, to feel emotion - so afraid that I am unsure myself as to who I really am, and to what I really feel. Even more than that, I am afraid to know what it is I really feel; who I really am. Sometimes I get a glimpse into my soul, and it isn't that I don't like what I see. So I don't really understand what it is that I am afraid of.

Once in my life, I thought I knew what I felt - I thought I was in love, but I know now that it wasn't real - I was only in love with the idea of being in love, not the actual person I believed myself to be in love with. This person wanted to change me - change me into someone who I am not, and can never be, and I could not allow that to happen. I found that out much later than I wish I had, but I did, at least, discover that truth about me. The only person I can change for is myself.

The only person I will change for is myself.

If only I could let go of these fears that hide me from me - then I could be free to love as I truly want to - to laugh, to smile - to be truly happy in a way that I can only dream of now. Sometimes, if I forget for just a few moments, I let what I believe must be the real me out. I wish I could learn to forget more often. I like the person who I am then. But for some reason, I am incapable of letting myself free - the masochist in me won't let me be happy. This could be the real me, for this is the part that rules most of the time. I hope that's not really me. I hope it's some sort of defense mechanism, that, sometime, with help from others, I can break down and leave crumbled in pieces behind me, leaving them in the past and moving on.

I need help. I can't do this alone. I need someone who will help me break down these prison walls of my own making, who will sweep the pieces up and hide them from me, so I cannot build them back up again. I need someone to love, and who will love me in return, for who I truly am - even if I don not know who I truly am myself.

Help me. Help me to laugh, to cry, to feel something other than this weight pressing down on my heart. Help me to see me, to see the joy in life and not just the monotony of existence. Help me to break my chains. I feel trapped, imprisoned - captive.

Free me. Free me from this unknown burden that I carry. For if you do not, it will suffocate me. Already, my breath is thin. I don't think I can continue existing like this for much longer.

Rescue me. Rescue me from myself.