I remember the last night before they came home the other day. I hung up the white towel I used in the kitchen for the whole two weeks they were away. A part of me fell apart the moment I hung it up; I knew the freedom was over - it was limited, but it was something.

My mum is back to being her usual self - claiming my victories as her own by saying she “taught me everything”. You taught me nothing. I had to learn everything the hard way. I was bullied for your laziness. You didn’t even like me being near you.

And I didn’t miss my family being away. I didn’t miss them at all. I missed most being able to clean the house how I wanted, to maintain the cleanliness, to cook whatever I wanted, to come home whenever I wanted, to invite my friends over (even though my brother ruined that for me).

I wouldn’t keep a friend around me like him, so why is he the exception?

My dad would have lectured me about how no one will want to marry me if I “keep going out” even though I barely go out.

I’m using the next week+ to invite my friends over and go out, to utilise the freedom while I still have it.

I just… walked back into my house… and that was it. My brother went back up to play his game after opening the door for me and no questions were asked, and I feel so good. No anxiety about dad lashing out at me, or my mum screaming at me. I enjoyed my day, guys. I literally had such a good day.

I wonder if it’s a coping mechanism. I wonder so many things. I looked up at the stars at the bus stop and wondered if there was a way I could just be in the sky, among the stars. Not dead, but free.

They’re not memories, they’re flashes of things I yearn for that I get a wave of nostalgia and comfort from - even though I’ve not been through those exact experiences. Yes I’ve been on a plane, yes I’ve travelled on a coach at night but it’s not me remembered those things. It’s a feeling.

What if the reason why I said yes to living has already passed? Then what’s the point of living the rest of this life? I’m not in a sui mindset but I’m just curious. I’m just confused and scared. I’m stressed.

Can’t choose your family. Can’t choose your friends. Can’t choose the personality you were birthed with. Can’t choose your colleagues. Can’t choose because you don’t know. Can’t choose the life you were given, except that you consented to it for some unbeknownst reason.

His wife. A ring to it that I’ll always be deaf to, because it’ll never be. How heartbreaking, but how beautiful to have dreamt it. I was his again.

And I realised it perhaps was our home. And we were together still, perhaps even more. Maybe we were married. Maybe it was a glimpse into a typical night in our marriage - me being a night owl and him being the first to sleep - despite his attempt of trying to sleep after me, his wife.

“Okay, yeah, get it.” As he said falling asleep again. I remember finding it amusing seeing him try to stay awake with me.

I woke up with a sense of stability for the first time. I initially thought it was a hotel room, but when noticing the clothes in the wardrobe, it couldn’t have been.