Out of love

I am not in love anymore. I am not bewildered by the city, but by my inability to feel what I felt once. I hardly look up as I make way through puddles on streets and sidewalks. I have lost interest. I don’t feel protected or loved or wanted. I am beaten by an imaginary force. I am alone. I have no home of my own. I have become pieces of an indistinguishable territory.

Elle

The first thing I think about when I wake up is coffee. I love the smell, but I mostly love the comfort it provides. It makes me forget what is happening in the outside world. It makes me feel okay. It reminds me that I am alive and that I have a lot to be thankful for.

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