What is my purpose? Is it to forever feel unworthy and useless? Am I only intended to yearn for my passion, only to never see it through? I sobbed at these questions as my grief shrouded me with hopelessness. If only I had never met Michael, or if I had started working earlier, even though he disapproved of the idea, I might never have been in this fucked up situation.
I am a complete emotional mess; my shower took longer than it should have, but I was somewhat able to gather what was left of my fragmented soundness. I need to get to the bistro ASAP and find my happy place. I don’t know why, but there it always feels like my true home.
I dried myself and applied lotion over my marks of shame, hoping the sweet smell and its medicinal properties would magically heal them. I tied my wet hair into a bun, and put on makeup to try to hide my melancholy face as well as the bruises on my neck. Once finished, I carefully opened the door and peeked out, making sure Jerry was nowhere to be s
