It's like I forgot how to live. Time for a freewrite. It's 3:34. I'd like to do this for at least ten minutes:
I'm sitting on the floor. The air conditioner is on and I'm eating baby carrots out of a bag. I'm bare footed and wearing those yoga pants that I get so much attention in. I'm wearing a form-fitting tank over a bright purple sports bra. I like this. I look in the mirror and see my beautiful little curves that fall in all of the right places.
Today I got into my car and I was determined to pay off my car loan. But I drove past the bank by accident twice. TWICE. So I drove down to South Philly to buy a bike. But they didn't have what I wanted. So I drove back up to North Philly to the bike shop that had what I wanted, and I didn't buy one there either. Instead I sat in a food court slowly eating a salad. With each bite I could feel the tears welling up in my pathetic little eyes.
It's like I forgot how to live. I don't remember how to smile a genuine smile anymore. It's all filler and "I'm being nice." So I got home and saw an envelope in the mailbox. Opened it up. Apparently my last place of employement opened an IRA for me without me even knowing it. So Old Nicole is $908 richer.
Instead of being happy, I just thought, "Great, if I fucking make it that far." 59 and a half is a tall order for such an empty girl. Such a tall, tall fucking order.
I just don't know how to be happy. I went to visit my family this weekend and smiled fake smiles. I left early because I just couldn't take it anymore. I don't even know what to do anymore.
I swear, I just flat out forgot how to live. I don't want to do it anymore. I barely make it through each fucking day anymore. I said to my sister, "Marie, just making it through the fucking day is one heck of a fucking struggle." JUST breathing. It feels like such a fucking task when you don't even have a reason to breathe anymore.
Why the fuck do I even exist?
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