All I wanted was one fucking break, one idiotic good thing, and that was clearly too much to ask for, too much to want.
I am a ball of tense emotions. Or perhaps a cup, sloshing about. Maybe the sails of yacht, barely tethered on.
I am at the brink of an explosion and I can feel it coming.
I want to be able to tell myself that it’s okay, everything will get “better”. Except I’ve been neglected from “better” for so long I have forgotten how it actually feels.
It worries me, this uncertainty. I’m scared I will forever be in this state, and the “better” everyone promises will happen will just leave me behind.