His and Hers

by Alice Feeney

There is a difference between being and feeling alone, and it is possible to miss someone and be with them at the same time.

None of the relationships I have ever formed with another human being feel real to me. More like a series of missed connections.

I’ve always been selfish with the true thoughts and feelings inside my head; I don’t share them with anyone. Because I can’t.

I also learned how to fit in, but constantly trying to do so is more than just uncomfortable now, it hurts. Because I don’t. Fit. I fold my jagged edges inside myself,

We rarely deserve the lives we lead. We pay for them however we can, be it with money, guilt, or regret.

Silence is my favourite symphony; I can’t think clearly when life gets too loud.

We all have secrets; some we won’t even tell ourselves.

Anxiety often screams louder than logic, and when you spend too long imagining the worst you can make it come true.

I don’t wear new things straightaway; I save them for when I need to feel good, rather than feel like myself. Now is a perfect time to wear something new and pretty to hide inside.

I think when we finally get what we think we want, it loses its value. It’s the secret nobody ever shares, because if they did, we would all stop trying.

There are so many unanswered questions keeping me awake at night. Insomnia has become a bad habit I can’t break. Every day seems to start backwards – I wake up tired and go to bed feeling wide awake.

Time is a trapdoor we all tumble down at some point in our lives, often completely unaware of how far we have fallen.