I forgave my mother because the family wanted me to
But I haven’t forgiven her. I don’t think I’m supposed to.
I have eleven friends and none of them know me
The real version of me is typing this at 2am in a dark room.
I didn’t leave for a better job
Everyone thinks I left because I got a better offer.
My therapist said I was too much
The one person who was supposed to hold space for me.
I still check his Instagram every night
It’s been two years. He doesn’t even post anymore.
Why Still Awake Exists
This is not a blog. This is a room with the lights off and the door open.