How can memories of past selves be any more real than who I am now?

How can I let the good times roll when there are more bad times than good?

The way I am, correction, the way I USED to be, is totally different

Night was often kind and calming to the teen,

who often spent his days and nights independently.

They were silent, tranquil,and relaxing enough

to wash all the anxiety and stress of daily life.

Surprising, though,

that he found peace in the dead of night

when solitude during the day drags his fears to the front of his mind.

Alone was when he thought the worse, when his mind runs to keep itself busy,

it often made the knots in his stomach tighten into an unbearable mess.

Twisting and tightening until any tugging would tear, not help.

Day after day he found that the stress was building the twisting,

to push him deeper into growing and festering fears that occupy his thoughts.

His breaths would become short, unable to completely fill his lungs,

air unable to reach his head,

his body panicking when it couldn't get the help it needed.

Each day he faked a smile to his friends,

reassuring them he was doing better than he actually was.

The looks in their eyes told him that they did not believe him,

though there was nothing they could do or say to him without interfering with his life;

none of them wanted to hurt or offend him.

All chickened out... except for one.

She approaches, face set with determination, and speaks.

Are you alright, what has been going on?

Her concern rings out.

Yes, I'm fine, nothing has been going on.

But it's not enough, he knows her well enough to see that he wasn't getting out of it.

Silence... awkward silence,

the kind you get when no one wants to be 'that person'

and make the situation worsen ten fold.

He turns to go mind already starting to repeat the twisting and tugging.

Can I help? Her question goes unanswered...

will you LET me help?

His response was intended to be sarcastic and childish,

angry at her persistent attack.

What came tumbling out after a moment of retort was less than tough.

Tears started to pour and his anxiety frothed forth and ugly fears came to the light.

His body started to crumble at the weight of his truth,

almost as though he couldn't handle telling another about what was plaguing him,

About what's plaguing ME.

I felt arms envelop me,

pulling me into a sanctuary I hadn't known to exist.

I felt my face pull into a true smile for the first time in what might've been a lifetime,

the negative and all things dark losing, only for a second,

but it was enough for me to trust that, despite my mistakes,

I'd be okay,

even if just for a moment.

So I'll let the good times roll, and I won't let the bad times bother me, even if they are large in number.

My friends will try their best to help create better memories, ones to overpower the others.

Let the good times roll,

And make some new times.

Good times,

Let the good times roll