In therapy, we are EMDRing our way toward feeling like enough.

I show up, I trace the green dot back and forth with my eyes while I think of the worst memory of my entire life and cry about it.

And then we do it again. And again. And again.

The same place, the same words spoken, the same gold couch, the same familiar face becoming a stranger in seconds.

It’s like physical therapy for your brain: sometimes it has to hurt a little more before it starts feeling better.

Though I miss him, reminiscing can be sweet yet sickening.

If you’ve enjoyed any of my work, please consider having a coffee with me.

I’m on a mission to post 1,000 100 word stories! Follow this publication to keep reading them.

I’m experiencing with different writing styles, as long as they all add up to exactly 100 words, and trying a new AI image generator to help keep looking the same around here. I hope that doesn’t steer you away from my words.