Nyctophilia

Thirty-Five.

I just got home from Faye's house. I can't say which movie we watched, because I wasn't paying attention.

Faye wants us to hang out again, maybe go to the mall sometime. I pretended like I was excited about it, but all I want to do is lie in bed and never get up. I guess that'd be the selfish thing to do, when everyone just wants you to be yourself again.

I don't even remember what "being myself" is like. It must be nice.