Probably Not Much Longer

Jocelyne said “we need to talk”.

There is no “we”, only her. No “talk” she only shoots words and waits for a noise from me as response, she doesn’t care to listen to the answer. There is no “need” I don’t need this lie, she doesn’t need the air out of my lungs, she just wants it.

I don’t know much about the future anymore. I’m going to a therapy appointment tomorrow, and I’m doubting much will come of it. We’ll see, won’t we?

I said to her, as I refused to hear her start a long rant of “but I’ve-“, the sentence “If there’s not a place to ‘go’ that’s… fine.”

I’m gripped with fear. It’s a feeling I’m used to. I don’t want to be.

My body, heart, and soul are trying to fight the hypothermia from lack of love. I’m starting to believe, no matter how I fight it, it’s still going to kill me.

2 thoughts on “Probably Not Much Longer

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