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No room for anyone to get in.
And maybe that’s smart.
Maybe that’s maturity.
Maybe that’s me learning.
Or maybe it’s just lonely.
That’s the part nobody warns you about.
How choosing yourself can still feel empty in the quiet moments.
How being right doesn’t always feel good.
How discipline keeps you warm in the daylight and cold at night.
I don’t miss chaos. I miss being looked at like I was someone’s something…
That realization irritates me enough that I shut my laptop too hard one night in the library and get glared at by a grad student in wire-frame glasses.
Fine.
Whatever.
