Day 7

 The day this happened, I was in Kep looking at the sea thinking of how much I wanted to die and maybe I should just swim and swim until I disappeared. Or maybe I should buy more of the new pills they have in the pharmacy there and I just take all of those pills and see what could happen [to me.] I ran away from my husband at this point and I have my phone in airplane mode because 1. I don't want him to call me. I don't want to be found. 2. I don't want to google if the new medication can actually kill me or not. I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't, and 3. I don't want to keep wondering why you don't reply. 

I promise myself I'm going to wait until sunset and make a better decision from there. I just need to breathe. It's just a fucking storm. 

I turn off airplane mode and your message gets through. I can't even be friends with you. What a fucking failure. 

Una sonrisa

 ¿Qué quedo después de todo esto? 

Ni siquiera sé si una sonrisa es la respuesta correcta. Sólo tengo el recuerdo, borroso, efímero, confuso de una sonrisa. No tengo más. No quedé con más. 

Tal vez sólo era para eso. Porque el universo decidió que iba a ser conmigo y yo sólo me iba a quedar con ese borroso recuerdo de una sonrisa gigante, que se sintió auténtica a pesar de tu inseguridad con tu propia sonrisa. 

specks of time