It always had to be something.
She wasn’t comfortable with anything being nothing.
But it wasn’t her fault. It’s just sort of how she was raised. She came by her paranoia and neurosis honestly. Her knack for finding the “wrong” in any situation was unlike anything her friends had seen. They were impressed and simultaneously felt bad for her affinity of self-sabotaging behavior.
Things could be going swimmingly, but that was never okay by her. It wasn’t something she could trust nor a feeling she was used to. She’d look through his medicine cabinets, maybe pull out a dresser drawer or two, even glance over into the trash, more than positive she would catch a glimpse of a freshly unwrapped condom wrapper or an empty container of liquid codeine (she had a big imagination). “I knew it!” She’d exclaim internally. “I knew things couldn’t ever really be this good.”
But they could be, she learned. One day, she stopped looking for the bad. She ignored her inclination to wait around for the negative and started appreciating the positive.
Subsequently, she was happier.