When I woke up yesterday, I could feel the weight of my body and my burdens. Pretty immediately I felt nauseous and wanted to vomit. I did. Then I cried. All within ten minutes of opening my eyes.
I took my medicine, nearly choking it down, my body not wanting to cooperate with me, and I wrapped myself in my robe and went back to bed where I would remain the majority of the day.
In my mind, the thoughts swirled of how lonely I felt. Loneliness scares me. Loneliness is what lead me to call the man who raped me. Still, I craved intimate companionship. Not necessarily romantically, but I was craving something I couldn’t put a name on.
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