(a memoir)



black river

Tonight, as I walked across the bridge after my run, I gazed down at the black river and felt the pressure build behind my eyes. I think I was crying for some past version of myself, from years ago, perhaps when I was still in college or high school. All of the dreams and expectations that person had, and the quiet sadness that this past version still resides within me, that I still cling to the same aspirations, even though lack of fortitude and willpower have since rendered them infeasible. Somewhere along the line, a sense of insecurity and isolation came to outweigh them. I cried for all the wasted hours, doing nothing, the time slipping away, captivated by nothing other than by fear and anxiety.

leesah-likes at 5:43 p.m.

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