I’m stuck. Food isn’t appealing, the daily tasks of life seem irrelevant and hard and I’m still looking for you, it’s been over two and a half years and I’m still looking for you, will I ever stop looking?
Today I don’t feel lucky or capable or determined. Today I want to cover my body in layers of your clothes, crawl into the bed that I could swear you slept in with me, and wail into the pillow that I can hardly remember your head ever resting upon.
Today I’m a fucking failure and it’s too hard and I want to fucking quit. I never do, I never will, but today I wish I could.
I’m tired of only surviving this life, I’m tired of having to make do with it being good enough.
ad astra per aspera 