I got ghosted, and at first I equated it to karma for my deep history of hiding and curving and ignoring.
No, I am not a liar. But, I am also, historically speaking, at times an unreliable narrator.
But when it ends (and it will), dizzying and exhilarating as it was, we just have to remember to put our hands back up again.
Depression is hidden in the jokes, the pauses, the drinks, the late nights, the forced smiles – perfectly rehearsed