Comfort and…

There are days when you feel alive. When getting out of bed alone is an absolute joy, because you just can’t wait to own this day and kick it in the balls. I thrive on those days, because I know I’m at my most productive then.

And there are days when you’re weary. When you don’t want to face life, and find that the only comfort you are getting is from the heavy duvet covering the body that feels like it isn’t yours anymore.

Those days are for lying in the dark. For leaving off your glasses so the world around you is a blur. For living on packs of McCoy’s Flame Grilled Steak crisps and zoning out from whatever is playing on your television.

Time stands still in that moment. Either that, or it rushes on without you being fully aware of it.

It’s the worst and most toxic kind of comfort. Because at some point, you’ll have to face the world again and show the cracks.

But I know that people will still love me, cracks and all. And I’m ridiculously grateful for it.

Here’s a funny picture of kitties. For those who need cheering up.

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1 Comment

  1. Hugs, sweetie. Comfort is a good thing.


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