"it's fine, really"... the phrase catches in my throat, tastes like ash. no, it's not fine. i'm sitting here on a night that i thought i was going to be free and i'm drafting emails for other people that they could be doing themselves, and my damn phone is buzzing because it's about to die again and i'm supposed to be the goddamn charger for everyone else's lives but mine is just... empty? feels like i'm underwater, and the current keeps pulling me further out, and if i scream, no one would even hear it over the waves, so i just keep smiling and nodding and saying "it's fine, really" until i actually disappear.