…which makes my eyes feel sore.
Disoriented. That’s what I am. Because I know they are gone, but it feels somehow temporary. Which is ridiculous. But, it can’t be real. If it were real I’d lose my mind. And I can’t lose my mind, thus it isn’t real. Right?
It’s like a compass, but there’s no magnetic north. What is it then? Just a needle spinning wildly around? Or would it sit in one place? Hm. The point is, it is no longer a fucking useful tool. It no longer orients you.
So yeah, I’m disoriented. I can’t remember who is here and who isn’t. I can, it just takes work. I have to think really hard about the littlest things.
And I’m not one to complain about losing weight, but I know it’s not because I’m trying to. It’s because food nauseates me. Nothing sounds even remotely appetizing.
And flat. I feel flat. I’m stuck in this flat, disoriented space and the sky seems so large. Like it might swallow me whole. I think if I jumped in, and let the ache behind my eyes become tears, it might help. But I’m not there yet.
I’m here. Flat and disoriented.
Here’s Where the Story Ends – The Sundays