We Do What We Do in the Dark

by Michelle Hart

“I understand what you mean. I think that when you’re miserable, you often do things that extend that misery. There is something pleasing about misery that makes it seem as though time has stopped.”

Because she saw herself as a girl only a mother could love, she often wanted to be alone,

Most nights, Mallory had little to do but read at home. She liked doing this, loved it even, but also liked an excuse to do anything else. Whenever she was out, however, she wished she were back in bed by herself with a book.

REAL

Each time she stepped into her mother’s hospital room, Mallory felt they recognized one another less, and she dreaded being asked the question that felt more and more inevitable: Who are you?

“Loneliness always seems so luxurious,” the woman slurred. “All the time I want to be by myself but then when I am, I desperately want someone else around.”