It’s two fifteen in the night and my alarm is set for an ambitious wake up call, just after three hours. I had a fight. A bad one. Something that leaves you questioning the foundation of your relationship. My person said we’d speak tomo but it’s too late for me. Now is what I want. Comfort is what I crave. An acknowledgement, some cajoling and a happy end. Stuff that Disney films are made of perhaps? The Grim brothers had vastly different ideas of fairy tales.. They were ghastly and grotesque, not befitting the eyes or ears of children but definitely apt for adults. Perhaps we need situations to grow out of positivity? To remain but consistent in struggles and strife because bravado can be wrongly interpreted as selfishness? What are it’s boundaries? When is it okay to be mad at your people and when do you decide whether to give in to their demands or to prioritize yours? Do you ever? Wil you change the cycle anytime soon?
My head feels like Meredith Grey ‘s. There are a million things on but at the forefront is a voice. It tells me a lot of things that I want not to do. And no. I d cannot sleep. Futility is sometimes the stuff of life. Adios.


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