Sometimes

I would lie to my girlfriend and say that I’m going to sleep, when I’m actually just freeing myself from the status of: I am awake and she knows I’m awake and I’m not talking to her, and why not? 

And I might not have a good answer for that, so I avoid it altogether by saying “Good night baby, I love you so much” and setting my online status to “invisible” and pacing around my apartment for two hours and cleaning and paying parking tickets and eventually settling down into the tombstone I sit in all day and pounding out this awful fucking paragraph that no one will ever read.

And as I type “that no one will ever read,” I envision the moment I eventually screenshot this note and post it on my private twitter, or the moment I send it to my girlfriend and anxiously await her curated digital response, hoping that this note is not the one that finally signifies to her that she’s wasting her time with a future mental patient.

In March or April I finally summoned the guts to see a real life therapist and look him in the eyes and say some words about myself and promised him that I would be back but then something came up and I ghosted him forever. I’ve done that to a lot of people but he’s the only one I wasn’t trying to fuck.