I miss you.

I always do.

I always wished I had permission to crumble into you, and that you would hold me when I do.


I've been so busy with work. I was at the office until 9. T and I spoke about 6 sentences to each other today.

I can't tell if the work is helping me or harming me. When I'm absorbed in my work, at least I have a break from myself and my mind. It's an escape. But it also feels like I'm holding my breath, and when I finally get to leave work, I'm gasping for the air that was withheld from me.

It's a confusing feeling. I guess it's better than outright hating the job. Regardless of how I feel, I still have to keep showing up.


I wish you were here, especially in these awful times.