Sifting through boxes I had no plans of unpacking any time soon I found your sweatpants. I slipped them on like a guilty habit, the elastic so worn from overuse, the feeling incomparably familiar. I'm in bed now, Dylan and I talked on the phone for almost an hour and a half, and I finally spoke all of my bottled truths. I told him I was so low that I couldn't get back up, he said he understood. He mentioned both that putting everything in one person is disappointing and a bad idea, but making decisions alone is too hard. I wanted Lizz to be here, in the same way that I did last night, a nagging that I myself would not allow to nag. Bart pulses in the background, the birds coo too loudly, the hallway scares me and I convince myself I've lost my mind. My social anxiety has been so terrible, it must be treated, but how? The burrito hurts my stomach, much like everything else, and I dream of the city, or riding my bike, or being at home. I wonder how many days I am required to go to work in the 365. I was astounding to discover that I did not wish to talk to you last night, it made me realize how bad of a place I must be in. I finished the other half of the champagne, mostly for the sugar, but it didn't help me sleep, I tossed and turned the entire night through. I've been avoiding writing for these reasons, I've been avoiding talking for these reasons. Everyone here tries to overpower the next person's noise and it stresses me out. My legs cannot move like this, my plants cannot grow, or live like this, no one is coming to save me and this is what that feels like. I told my dad I was not in a place to see him, I went to brunch because it was all I could think to do to sustain my friendship with Lizz. She wants what is best for me. Alex said she is not in a head space to understand my struggles, and it made me very happy to think of her being distant from that. Alex truly rescued me, and I tried to thank her.
"It's so hard when someone sees something in you that you do not wish them to see." I got home from work that day and laid in bed on my stomach, next to her, and when I got up, saying I was fine, we looked down at the marks from my tears at the exact same time. The light gray sheets exposed dark gray damp spots, we said nothing, and both wondered if I had cried in front of her before. Some dreams are so sad that you cannot share them with a single person, that night before I had one of those dreams, and woke up both disenchanted, and haunted, and knew deep in my bones that I had made happiness unobtainable. Austin left with my hope and I can't explain anything, to anyone
When I feel like dying I go out on the roof and feel small and come back down, it helped all four times
She could not have a copy of this key, and I actually tried not to think about that
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