I am gone.
I am pretending I do not exist.
I have shut it all down, and am imagining that I can disappear into the silence that surrounds me. It is my source of comfort tonight.
I am fantasizing about falling apart and staying apart. I am staring into blackness, wishing I could crawl into it and stay there, numb and disconnected.
I am fantasizing about madness. Wishing that I were mad in a way that removed from me any responsibility to myself. That forgave me my own neglect.
I don’t want to have to fight anymore.
I don’t want to have to try so hard, and still fail so much.
I’ll come back. I always do. But for now, there is a part of me that wishes I’d stay gone.