I am miserable, can you tell?
Sometimes I lie awake staring at nothing, feeling nothing. And it’s the saddest feeling in the world. Sometimes I feel like glass, fragile, translucent, close to a breaking point that I cannot quite understand. I tell myself silly stories. I dream them. And when I wake up, the stark reality of what I see fazes me. I do not know what I am built for. I used to think I am made of sterner stuff. After everything, I thought I must be one tough person to be able to have withstood a shattering. But maybe, just maybe, the shattering hasn’t really stopped.
