I’m sitting on the couch the computer resting in my lap. My fingers nervously tapping the edge of the screen. My eyes are glazed over their not really focused on anything but inward.
You call out to me, “baby” It pulls me out enough for me to hear you. Not enough for me to react. You walk over to the couch, sitting next to me.
“baby you should take a break it’s almost 1am” You say I shake my head no feeling the anxiousness creep into my throat. I glance at the clock on my laptop.
12:54 am bright across the top left corner. I have been at this for most of the day. Tears brink my eyes It feels like I’ve barely started. Like what I have done isn’t nearly enough. Like it will never be enough, I’m not enough, I don’t know why I am even trying, it’s stupid idea, looks like a child made this. I’m never going to be enough…
I don’t notice you pull the computer off my lap. Or that I’ve curled myself into the edge of the couch. My head in my hands tears streaming down my face. I hate crying but I hate crying in front if you that much more.