maybe it's: maybe: uch: maybe. uch, I don't know what it is, but something doesn't feel okay. everything seems riddled with worry. I'm just worried. worried that it's all running out, that I'm doing something wrong. that I will do something wrong if I haven't done it already. though I think I have. saying wrong things. not responding well. thinking I've forgotten the right ways to see and touch. I said the wrong things when I opened the last gift he brought me home from asia. and he noticed. his intent was sweet dedication and our own jokes and I came off like I was laughing at him. and then last night disclosing that I'd not refilled that prescription, having not told him earlier, letting everything go by as usual, and telling him later, and feeling treacherous, like I was up to something, like I was going to let something happen, when all I wanted was to feel things normally again, without my body and my head thick with medicine, and that didn't feel like lying when it happened, but he took it like that.
what were you thinking?
that question will wreck me every time. I never seem to know.
: