Maybe Tomorrow

I’m sitting in my apartment, alone, as rain throws itself hard against my windowpane and I can’t stop crying.

Independence comes with a price.

I scour Facebook newsfeeds and absentmindedly notice how everyone looks so happy, or sad, nothing in between.

The silence is getting to me.

I pick up my Kindle and start to read, a distraction from reality: the “promising” job I applied for turned out to be a scam. (More tears). And I’m supposed to be strong and move on and apply myself harder, spread myself like Swiss cheese on warm bread, a melty invitation for strength to rest, but this hurts.

And I’m tired.

So I’m going to bed. Maybe, maybe tomorrow the sun will shine again.

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