My gaze shifts from the window. I'm caught in might-have-beens. And the tang of disappointment is fresh upon my lips. Breathe in and out. You are stronger than this.
You are stronger than this. That's what they tell you- the friends and the parents and the strangers on street corners. You are stronger than this. They know you don't believe it. They know your smiles are faked. They know the neurons are firing from your fingers to your brain, that your hands are moving all the right places... but it doesn't mean a thing. You are stronger than this.
Maybe if I repeat it enough times, I'll believe it too.
See, I chose not to draw the blinds tonight. I'm peaking at an empty parking lot and a flashing beacon far away. I'm staring at the pictures on the sill. I want to go back.
You are stronger than this.
They know you don't believe it, but no one wants to speak the truth.
