There. Seating in a bar all by yourself, sipping on your usual gin & tonic you start to feel nauseated. It isn’t the gin that you so mindlessly chugged but a heavy tug at your heart as it dawn on you just how long has it been since you’ve been pretending.
On a typical Tuesday night back at your apartment as you lay on your bed, staring into nothingness, you sigh. You try to remember when was the last time you genuinely felt it. The joy of presence. Because lately their absence relieves you more.
Surrounded by your people, exchanging words of gossip, sarcasm and the all too known humor, you laugh if off because this is exactly what you should be doing. This is your usual, your routine. Then why does it feel different? Why are you being pretentious when all you wanna do is the exact opposite?
View original post 540 more words