Insanity is contagious.
NJ, Anchors Aweigh.
I’m breathing in and out and waiting for something to hurt again. Waiting for my chest to cave in a tiny bit, or my heart to drop, or my stomach to turn, just anything really. I’m waiting to feel uncomfortable. And there are things that aren’t right, they are many, many things that are imperfect. But I’m waiting to exhale and for it to hurt again, or for my eyes to drift into space and for me to get “thinking” again. But all that has stopped for the moment. And that is a moment worth recognizing.
One time you told me, “I like cats because they don’t rely on you & they don’t give a fuck about you.” At that point, I should have fucking known.
"Anything" I would tell him. Ask anything and I’d do it for you.