After

Today I woke up unable to feel.

Last night I went to sleep with sunken eyes and a deep red lip where it’s usually baby pink. I looked worse then. Today I look younger.

Absence does that.

I feel nothing. That’s probably why.

There’s something sad about realizing you’re still naive.

I thought basic decency was standard. I thought if I approached people carefully, they’d do the same.

Last night proved otherwise.

It wasn’t catastrophic. Just small. Enough to confirm something I didn’t want confirmed.

Kindness is optional.

So is cruelty.

I was labeled a clown.

Not the kind that makes people smile.

Just someone foolish for expecting restraint.

That’s the part that stings — not what they said, but that I expected better.

Naivety hurts most when it leaves quietly.

I’m glad my lineage will end with me.

That thought feels clean. But there’s sadness in it too. A quiet rejection of something I never wanted to inherit.

I don’t like my blood.

Not because I hate myself. 

Because I’ve seen what it carries.

I wonder if my friends will worry reading this. They might not. People are busy. I don’t blame them.

This journal is for me.

If someone else feels seen, that’s incidental.

I don’t know what I want today.

Just something softer than last night.

And maybe a little more discernment next time.