comfort.
🌱
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead”? . . . ?
I’m supposed to be happy. Why aren’t I happy?
What would help right now? What would make you feel cozy and comfortable? I have a few ideas . . . it will pass, you know? Everything is going to be okay.
“It's okay.
I can go to sleep. It's okay.”
It’s strange to see Bel’s office without the sight of wet ink. Old candles connected by wispy cobwebs were enough of a hint that something was off to anyone familiar with the archivist.
and thus you are known . . .
🌱
I’m so tired of disappearing. I wish I was real. I wish I was as real as you. And you keep letting go of my hand - how am I meant to find my way back? Sorry, I don’t mean to blame you, I understand. I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.
