I've had good days. I've had bad days. Days where I felt maybe I could get through it, maybe I was worth the fight, worth the breath I took every morning.
And then there were days like today—days where the heaviness in my chest was so thick I could barely stand under it.
Days where I convinced myself, all over again, that I was nothing more than a burden—to people, to the world, to anyone unfortunate enough to cross my path.
The tears came faster than I could process them, hot and unrelenting, dripping down my chin and splashing on the sink top.
The water from the tap was still running, mixing with the salty drops as if they'd always belonged together. I stood there, numb, unable to tell when the crying started or when it would end.
I had lost track of time the second I locked myself in this bathroom stall.
