We’re all in this together. But we’re not actually. Not at all.
I dread a lot of things. I worry most of the time about things that make me feel old. The kind of things that keep you awake at night but that are still there in the morning, waiting for your mind to come up with even more questions.
My mom says that our problems seem smaller in the morning. That the night just has a certain something that makes things seem a lot worse then they actually are. I’m starting to see no difference between my nights and my mornings.