next time

after the half-fiasco of the final family vacation, i feel a little lonely to be by myself again. not enough to plunge me into grief, more like dipping my toes into a shallow puddle of despair. i built myself a nice shield to repel the steady rain of negative comments from my older siblings, and now it’s stowed away under the bed, to gather dust until christmas or easter or whenever i’ll see them next.

Categorized as writing