Every day I sleep terribly.
Every day I wake far too early.
Every day I wake up terrified.
Every day I struggle to concentrate because I’m working too hard at merely feeling safe.
Every day I can’t wait to go to bed again, because it seems like progress.
Every day I feel terribly guilty for feeling like this, so I smile, and I wait, and I hope.
Every day I feel terribly guilty that all I do is take from you, and what do you get in return? Me, just me, and what is that, of what worth am I to you? So I push those thoughts away because I like you too much to consider letting you go.
It’s only been about a week that I’ve felt like this, I don’t know why I feel like this, and yet already the phrase ‘every day’ seems perfectly appropriate because it feels like it will never end.
