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Prose

Hillary

“You asked if I’m feeling any better and the answer is no. Nowhere to go but up, they say, but it’s not any comfort to me. It is not that I want to die so much as I don’t want to live. Living is dread and pain and letting people down. Hour after hour. I know this is hard for you to hear and that you can’t empathize with any of this. I don’t expect you to. Really.”

“I’ve gotten worse as I’ve aged and it’s not like I haven’t tried to get better. But what I’ve come to accept is that I am not going to find any happiness in life. We’re not guaranteed pleasure or joy and no matter how hard I’ve looked I simply can’t find it. Maybe it’s genetics or fate-I don’t know the root of it, just the blunt reality that I live with. I am in a state beyond misery. I don’t care about anything any more. I don’t want to wake up when I close my eyes. I want to fade away.”

© 2021 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.

By jebrownwriter

Houston, TX-based Writer and Photographer. Proud pet rescuer who spends nearly all his money on them.

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