December 1813Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1f3x6VAzm3
It was you today, wasn’t it? It was enough for me to come home and wish that the hot water from the shower would wash away my existence. Let the water run over my body, so much water, some of it with sodium chloride, of course. The kind that flows carelessly. I’m so tired. So much exhaustion, each step I take seems to be in the direction of nothing. So tired of this festive environment. So tired of dreaming, waking up, and being in a dream again. In my dreams, he is still alive, but I always know he will die. And when I’m awake, I know it too. But the pain isn’t as much when I only think I am awake.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqd4Jqs0QXH
In the classroom, programming. We are not many students, and I have my headphones, as always. Not only for the music, but also because of all the noise in the background. I read that neurotypical people can make the rumble disappear, but for me, it’s always there. It’s like an ongoing hum, a constant buzz that fills my head and makes it hard to focus on anything else. It’s exhausting. I try to drown it out with music, but sometimes even that doesn’t help. It’s just there, always. And in this place, surrounded by noise and chatter, it feels like I’m suffocating, but no one can hear it.
“Are you going to the Christmas dinner?” — always the same question. But he wanted me to go, didn’t he? He looked at me differently today. Sometimes he looks at me like that, but maybe it’s just me wanting it to be so. But I could swear he wanted to. “It would do you good,” but maybe that’s just the excuse, right? Because it seems to me there’s a slight difference. Does he feel any real connection with me? But it can’t be, it’s all temporary.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjh2PqCVoAp
