It feels as if the weight is inescapable and the darkness beneath it, blinding. Slowly, it’s suffocating you.
No matter how hard we try to make others happy in the way we speak or how we act, we continue to feel lonely and unloved.
It stung. I had a deep yearning to be accepted, to feel like I belonged, to know that I was part of a family forever.
so, if something I post is about a high school experience and the next is about when I turned eight, know that I am a work in progress.
If I sit with this for too long, I get angry. It feels dehumanizing. Am I just a commodity for someone’s desires?
Sure enough, the side mirror slammed into the mailbox and immediately fell off it’s hinges. I hit the brakes and felt the rush of panic and remorse come over me.