Strings

Behind clothes, under flesh, skin, muscle, bones weak or strong and organs doing their jobs are strings. A system of them tugging and pulling with every movement you make; once so strong, though now slowly starting to thin and grow weak from wear. You'll be fine for a while as long as your heart's in place and your mind is stable. But then as you grow old, hairs graying, skin wrinkling and wisdom growing, your strings - the very same ones that once held you together so tightly bound - break, rip, tear, snap and you start to fall apart. At first it's not really noticeable, just a few frayed ends, but once they start to tear more and more it takes actual effort to hide the fact that you're falling apart.

It's different with every person you come to. Some are so weak that they can't hold onto anything - not a memory or a thought and they drive themselves mad attempting to do so. Then, there are those who hold on until the very end, holding onto every last bit of hope they once had until that last string frays a bit too much and they die. And then there are those who fall apart so quickly, so much that all they can ever do is to attempt fixing them, putting on a facade of happiness and okay until that very last string, drawn so tight just snaps.