Wishing on a black hole

There are some days you most force yourself to smile and learn to believe the lie you tell yourself. When you will dance and tell yourself a happy story while inside you feel as broken as a chewed rag doll;
On others days, like today, you do better taking a hammer to your heart, shattering yourself into a million, scattered, pieces that can never be joined again.
On days like today you cry yourself to sleep and wake up knowing nothing but a vast emptiness that will never be filled. A void so great, it will eat into what is left of the facade that is your life. You wish on a star for a numbness that will stop the pain.
You will tell yourself that the happy memories, so vivid, were never real. That it wasn't you walking on the clouds and singing with the birds; that it never happened, that every memory with a smile is only as true as fairy tales and make believe knights, from when you were young.
On some days, like today, you wish you were never happy and never found music and literature that reflected your happiness, had never known what it was like to feel happiness. You wish to erase, as neatly as words on paper, every shared secret, every shared laugh. You wish it never existed and that your only true friend, sorrow, was never left unattended, was seen with less scorn.

What is funny though, is that the more you wish it, the less likely it is that your wish will be fulfilled.

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Song of the moment: Silence and Dante's quote  (I'm paraphrasing): There is no greater sorrow than remembering, in misery, when you were happy.