11/14/2024.
If you kill yourself,
your cat will miss you.
And even if no one comes to your funeral,
She will wander the hall,
Reaching under the bathroom door,
Crying
Where are you?
I love you.
Come back to bed.
--
commentary on this one is that my journal fell open to this page while I was looking for my goals from 1/12025. I'm still recovering from the events that made me write this, but on the brighter side I still have a cat who loves me more than anything.
It's hard to be open about struggling and having struggled. If I expose my weak spots, I fear people will come for them.
In 2026 I'm going to write more. And get a glasses prescription that isn't five years old. And become something built from joy instead of living in the negative space of things I am not. And I want to find friends again.
New year, and the central pieces of me remain.
Love you,
Laine.