Navigating Solutions and Darkness

I have a friend who can never do anything right. Not just with boys, but especially with boys. People ask me why I stay friends with her, but honestly she's a walking cautionary tale for me. She's who I could become if I'm not careful about who I am. Every weekend she messages me about the latest injustices of the latest boy. Every weekend I tell her to dump his ass and get herself some therapy. I have a friend who can never do anything right. Not just with boys, but especially with boys. People ask me why I stay friends with her, but I don't know the subtle art of distillation. My centrifuge is broken and the sieves all have holes in them. She's who I could become if I'm not careful about who I am. Every minute of every day she messages me about the latest injustices of the latest boy. And every time I tell her to dump his ass and get herself some (more) therapy . She got the therapy, but it wasn't enough. She dumped all the boys, but it wasn't enou

I wish I had an eye patch. Then my head wouldn't hurt so. I dreamed of a lavish home, or perhaps it was a homestay. I'd bought it and furnished it, and decorated it with care. The biggest room I chose for myself, and anyone was free to come live in the others. But my mother said I couldn't, I shouldn't take that room. Someone was already coming to stay in it, it was not mine to have. I thought of lingering defiantly, for surely it was mine by right. And then, heavy of heart, I slunk away. And the strangest thing began to happen, as I roamed from room to room in search of a place to close my eyes, even if for a little bit. Someone was always coming, someone to whom this room, and the next, and then the whole house belonged. And I couldn't take it any longer, the oppressive shadows of imminent arrival hanging over my head. I left the rooms, I left the house, I left it all behind. I tried to run, an endless, breathless escape. And it feels as though I've never