They always think that I’m strong enough to wrestle my demons out of my head and brave enough to bring the normal back to the world. My life is a plagiarized poem, a piece of diary snatched right in front of my eyes. There’s no normal after that.
I will pick the debris of my broken self and stitch it back so I can live another day and I can rest another night and I can survive another terror.
Loving me is not looking for cure.
You were happy because your friend was getting married and when I told you that we would get to that point; you paused and that pause was the loudest rejection I have ever heard.