I am not normal. I never will be.

I am high maintenance and dramatic. I am unstable and unreliable. I have so much baggage; the pile is stacked higher than either of us can see.

I need and I cling, yet I am distant when I'm unpacking all my bullshit. Quiet and sad, the cycle beginning with a crash and ending in sleep. I require so much sleep.

It leaves us both lonely. Feeling undervalued, uncared for, unappreciated. It takes us awhile to get back on track, only for another crash to begin sooner rather than later and for the cycle to start over again. Distance, sadness, sleep. What was it this time? Who knows. There are so many triggers hidden away in that baggage.

I can see it these days, recognize when a crash is happening. I'm grateful for that. Knowing that I am in the midst of one and not just opening my eyes after and seeing the wreckage spread out around me.

Not that I can stop it. Not yet. But I will learn to. Hopefully you'll still be around when I do.