**_Rayburn

_**_What exactly _is_ freedom? _I ask myself this as I pour myself a cup of tea.

When I had left the clutches of my fraternal aunt to go to university, I thought I had achevied such things. But time there was…lonely. I had been alone, and being free didn’t seem too nice.

The act of being free. Right now, one would say I’m free. Free to do what I want, with whomever I wish to, whenever I feel like it. But, there is one thing I can never do.

I can’t go back and erase my mistakes. I dug myself a grave, jumped into it, and now I can’t seem to climb back out.

The hurt I caused him is irreversible; I cannot take back the words I said.

And I do not want to. For if he senses a chance with me, it will be the end of both of us.

I finally sip my cup, cringing when I find it cold. Placing it down, I shrug out of my waistcoat and lean back in my cushioned chair, crossing my legs. I close my eyes.

Somehow, his face enters my mind. That dazzlingly smile.

“I fear that grave is barred and caged as well,” I mutter, “Damn it.”

I am free from the grips of society, but I shall never be free from my own suffering brought upon myself.