Death. The reset button. I haven’t written here in a while. Lots of jumbled thoughts.

Let’s just see what comes out if I type. I’m sad, but I think it will pass. I had this whole entry planned out in my head earlier while I was walking around the block. It was about the idea of the next few months as hitting the reset button on my life. Specifically wondering if I can hit the reset button on my relationship with my mom and what that looks like. I felt really confident earlier, walking around the block in my leather jacket, smoking a cigarette, looking at the stars. That kind of confidence makes me willing to be all kinds of vulnerable in public, and I wanted to talk about my childhood, and recovery, and stuff that’s going on for me in school, and sweet feelings about my relationship with maymay, and this weird fucking thing that happened over the weekend where this girl I’d never met before showed up out of nowhere and voiced my exact hallucinogenic nightmare aloud in the context of a conversation about mental health and hitting her own reset button and what I thought it all meant, and hope.

I didn’t write it, though. And…part of me is sad. Because I’ll never write it. And part of me is relieved. Because it would’ve been really personal and the Internet isn’t actually as safe a place as I’d like it to be. And part of me is like, “Go the fuck to bed, Rebecca. It’s almost 3am.” But it felt really important to write something down. So, now I have.