What is a person but a collection of choices? Where do those choices come from? Do I have a choice? Were any of these choices ever truly mine to begin with?

Man in black / Westworld / S2.Ep9: Vanishing Point

“You never want to be the person with the biggest secret in the room.” – a quote from one of my previous bosses.

Lately, I have been the person with the biggest secret in the room. I hide behind smiles, turn conversations away from myself, and say I’m fine.

I am turning inward and retreating into myself. As I pass through the maze that is my mind, I latch windows and lock doors. I internalize everything and seek out the numbness that keeps me sane.

The one thing I cannot lockout is the nightmares. They are always there waiting for me to reach max capacity. They seep into the cracks of my carefully crafted facade waiting for me to slip into unconsciousness. The minute my mind relaxes they attack in full force. All my fears, insecurities, and unresolved issues band together to invade my dreams.

The past repeats itself in my head. I awake in a cold sweat less rested than when I shut my eyes.

I have been putting a playlist together for the last three hours. There are over a thousand songs on it. Think of it as my attempt at making a soundtrack for my life.

You call because you miss me and want to talk to me.

I don’t know what to say to you. What do you say to someone who has ripped your heart out so many times that there is nothing left but a gaping hole.

You say you love me. That you cant live without me. So many promises of being better, different and worthy of my love. There are 18 years that say otherwise. You are an addict (or so you claim) and your drug of