disjointed.

If I don't write it down, it can't be real. Same if I don't tell anyone.

But sometimes I get scared.

I'm not the one people check up on. I'm not asked how I'm doing. To be fair to them, I avoid it by asking all the questions. By smiling.

It just comes out of no where.

This time I was driving in the car. I was awash with feelings I wasn't fully sure how to handle. Now my thoughts are completely disjointed.

The kind you feel like you can't tell anyone. The kind that hide in the corners, creep out when least expected.

I cried all the way home.

I'm noticing an up and down, up and down theme. Is it becoming an annual gut punch?

Now I'm alone.

For someone who often craves exactly that, I don't want to be. These are the moments I feel the most alone.

I can't call anyone, I just can't.


I sat here for a long time before I began to even type.

I don't have anything else to say.