I’ve been on a solid diet of saltines, yogurt, and applesauce for the last seven days. I can’t keep down much else. If I pretend hard enough, it feels like a simple, noncontagious stomach bug. But it isn’t just the physical symptoms that have made this week hard. The weight of this presses against my chest every second of the day. Even when I try to ignore it, I can’t outrun the truth. Sometimes I burst into tears without warning, just thinking about what’s happening. None of this feels fair. The nights are the absolute worst. They’re too quiet and too empty. I should be exhausted after work,
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