The Mate Agreement
If I wasn’t feeling so lazy, I’d get up and shut the windows just to block out any sounds of laughter and merriment.
I grab my phone again, opening the Spotify app and typing for a sad songs playlist. I don’t like most of the combination of the artists in the playlists I find, so I settle for listening to Lana Del Rey’s Cinnamon Girl on replay. It’s embarrasing how I sing along miserably, and if I had an audience, I would've been stoned to death.
I sigh, wishing I had the energy to cry, wishing I didn’t wake up feeling so numb like most of my emotions had been torched during my sleep. I close my eyes, willing myself to fall back asleep.