My heart’s racing. No really.
But that’s beside the point.
Because my mind is going at about 380 miles per hour. Like crazy. And I can’t think. I can’t stop thinking.
As waves and waves and waves of stress wash over me, I acknowledge them, but it’s not like it helps.
I wait for you to come and rescue me, but you won’t. That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? That would defeat me, right?
Ah, my chest hurts a little. And I’ll just laugh it away because there are more important things.
There is always tomorrow, unless of course there isn’t.
What’s with this destabilizing fear?