Coffee After 6 p.m.
Every time I see someone who looks like you, I get scared. I don’t know how to be alone with myself. Coffee after six p.m. tastes like anxiety. Coffee after midnight is something else entirely. I like to post the occasional reminder that I exist, though some days I am not sure if I actually do. My career is on hold. How many years do you think I can get away with saying that before I have to admit that I don’t know what I’m doing anymore? I’ve never really learned how to leave; I always wait until I am discarded.