Throat tight, like i swallowed a stone and it's lodged there, cold and unmoving. it's not even disappointment, is it? more like… recognition. oh, right, this is how it always goes. i keep thinking things will be different, but the script's always the same and i'm just waiting for the next goddamn cue. it’s like, part of me knows i should be grateful, like, 'oh, more time!' but it just feels like… a reset back to zero, the same blank page staring back, daring me to fill it with something other than everyone else's needs.