This is me right now.
I’m sick.
I am tired.
I’m cold. Everywhere is cold. Outside, inside, my bed is never warm enough, I have all of these blankets, these flannel sheets, but I still shiver and fall asleep without being able to feel my nose.
I miss sweating.
I miss short shorts and getting sunburns and swimming until I shiver and laying on hot rocks and drying out. The lake, the creek, big rock.
I am thinking about Louisville too much.
It’s valentine’s day and I want to sarcastically shrug it off. But you know that that isn’t me. I know it. Hallmark selling chocolate I won’t eat and the fucking bears with magnets in their noses. Distance, distance, distance. Distance.
I’ve had a lump in my throat for the past few weeks. It’s sore, my nose is running, and for as long as I can remember my ears pop when I swallow and I can’t just sleep on one side. Tossing and turning. Kicking off the covers.
I’m so busy and I feel like I’m not doing anything. Productive.
I’m always too tired to write.
It’s always too cold to protest.
I’m sick.
