Spent the last few nights dreaming of being abandoned, like I have exhausted my friendships, or consumed them like they are a thing I can use up like The Woman who stores joy in the chocolate that she feeds as treats to those in her life. A silly fiction shitty brains assure me is Absolutely True In All Ways™.
It is silly, because just last week, I had several conversations about platonic love and the joys of telling your friends that you love them. Perhaps I am in a downswing (lingering anhedonia would confirm this), but I would like to go back to that joy.
