Before anything is said, my body adjusts.
Not noticeably. Just enough to register the room as if it were weather. My jaw sets— not in defense, more like recognition.
I notice the placement of doors. The distance between us. How sound carries here. The air holds a fraction longer than it should.
I listen not for words but for what follows them. The sentence begins somewhere outside of sound. And I decide, quietly,
whether I am still.
About the Creator
Bailey
Just processing things.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
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