Life

It’s not even sadness anymore. It’s just nothing. Things happen and they don’t really land. I go through the day, do what I’m supposed to do, say what I’m supposed to say, and none of it feels like it’s actually happening to me. Like I’m watching myself from a little bit too far away to care.

The weird part is that I notice it. I’ll be in the middle of something and think, this should feel like something, but it doesn’t. No weight, no hurt, no warmth either. Just flat. Sleep doesn’t fix it. I wake up exactly as empty as I went to bed, like overnight did nothing at all.

And I can’t even muster the energy to be bothered by it anymore. That’s the part that gets me. Not that I feel nothing — but that I don’t care that I feel nothing. Like somewhere along the way I just stopped expecting anything different.