sometimes i wish i could just let go and let my siblings take turns visiting, but every time i think about leaving her alone for even one day, i feel this weird sense of betrayal. it feels like i might just be using the visits to feel like a better person instead of actually helping her.
just spent the afternoon organizing my collection of old books and now the smell of musty paper has me thinking about that time i wrote a letter to a friend i lost track of but never sent it because i was too afraid of rejection. feeling kinda silly that a piece of paper holds so much weight, and now there’s no one left to call when you find a long-lost favorite.
sitting in my tiny apartment, watching my neighbor turn their kitchen into a perfect little garden, while my window is cracked and has that weird mildew smell. their life just feels so vibrant and mine is a mess of old takeout boxes and an overdue rent notice — just trying to hold it together but it gets harder each day...
sitting in my tiny apartment, watching my neighbor turn their kitchen into a perfect little garden, while my window is cracked and has that weird mildew smell. their life just feels so vibrant and mine is a mess of old takeout boxes and an overdue rent notice — just trying to hold it together but it gets harder each day...
i keep thinking about how i had that one incredible moment when i saw a sunset from a different part of town and wanted to tell someone but i just sat in my car and drove home feeling this weight like i forgot something important and nobody gets it but they could if i just reached out but my phone just sat there—still, untouched, a reminder of the emptiness.