Every day I wake to a soft light peeking through my window pane, urging me to get up, whispering that there are exciting things to be done and places to see, promising that today will be the day. I trust the light, for it is an old friend of mine. Yet as I step out of bed, a dark cloud begins to take shape above me and I feel betrayed.

I drag my feet as I stumble to the living room, feeling numb to it all. I feel no hunger, I feel no happiness, nor pain. I feel no excitement for what lays ahead. I feel nothing.

I sit on the couch and turn on the television simply to fill the silence, but I am staring through the colorful screen. Staring into nothing and not even realizing or caring.

My phone rings, momentarily snapping me out of my trance. A friend of mine making what would be yet another failed attempt to see me. I think of my friends, think of how much fun we had together, how often we saw each other. I shake my head. Not today, maybe tomorrow. Today I do not feel like doing anything. I feel like being alone. Just like every other day for the past year.

The constant wave of exhaustion that is always brushing against my shoreline washes over me, engulfing me in salty water, pulling me in with the undercurrent. I give in and make the what feels like marathon trek back to my bedroom, where my always loyal bed waits for me, covers peeled back into a half smile.

I realize I just woke up all of half an hour ago and shrug. Time for a nap. I hang a blanket over the window and feel instantly relieved at the darkness it creates. I make my way to the bed and trust fall into its cushiony mattress. I pull the much too white sheets around me and breathe. In, out, in, out.

I look at the four walls surrounding me. They understand. I close my eyes and give permission for them to follow. And just like that, nothing. I love sleeping. The way it takes you to another world whenever you grow tired of your own. The way it never asks questions or judges. The way it is always there. Always accepting, always waiting.

It is 4 p.m. when I wake once more. I know I must get ready this time.

I walk to the bathroom and methodically reach for the cabinet. I open a tube and take a white tablet. It tastes bitter on my tongue. I glance up at the large bathroom mirror in front of me. I see a girl with messy brown hair shaping her face. I slowly steer my gaze upward, starting with her jawline and pausing when I meet her eyes, two bright whirls of greenish brown. Aching to tell me a story but at a loss for words. They seem new to me. She seems unrecognizable.

I shrug off the clouded thoughts that enter my head, unable to make out any of them, and undress. But my eyes wander once more, curious if she is still there. She is. I look at her, this time carrying my curious gaze down her body. Skinny, much too skinny, but also fat, much too fat. I turn to the side and she copies me, always following me. Her ribs visible through her almost transparent skin. Her thighs rub against each other and stomach protrudes as we spin around once more. She disgusts me.

I step into the shower and turn the water to cold, trying desperately to wake myself up from what still feels like a dream. It hits me all at once, sending shivers down my spine but never opening my eyes. It is okay, I reassure myself although it feels like a lie. It is okay.

At 4:30 p.m. I make my way to work, spacing out the whole drive, but subconsciously steering myself into the right direction. I pull up into the parking lot and sit in my car. I do not want to go, I do not want to go, I remind myself. I pick up my phone and consider calling out, but put it back down at thinking of the effort required to create an excuse. I sigh and walk in.

Smiling faces surround me. "Hi! How are you doing today?" I momentarily consider turning around and taking myself back home. You can do this. My lips form a half-hearted smile. It feels fake and wrong. "I am good. I am doing good," I say. Same lie every day. Same smile every day. I calculate the time in my head. Just five hours. You can do this.

The work day drags on but I never dare to leave my little world. I move robotically, answering questions and performing tasks out of habit. No one seems to notice, no one seems to care. It is all I know how to do.

Finally, it is 10 p.m. and I find myself in my car, making my usual unforced drive. I walk into my home. It feels strange to think of it as such. A home, what does that even mean? I ask myself. I put on a loose T-shirt and sweat pants, this time avoiding the girl who I knew was waiting for me on the other side of the glass.

I lay in bed once more, but feel empty. I recollect on the day I wasted. I recollect on the people I miss. I instantly close off my thoughts. It is always bad at night, I remind myself. Do not fall into its trap. I feel a single tear trickle down the side of my cheek. I do not understand it. Before I can question it, my eyes well up with all of the water it left behind.

But my mind is blank. I feel nothing. The tears drip down my cheeks as I settle into bed. I close my eyes, wishing them away, wishing them on someone else, anyone else, to no avail. They are a part of me.

I look around at the black walls around me, but they are not comforting anymore. They mock me. They know my secrets and I hate them for it. I am trapped.

There is no use in telling anyone. There is no use in trying to make sense of it. They will not understand. I will not understand. I am trapped.

I close my eyes and rest my head on my damp pillow. I know the light will wake me in the morning. I glance out the crack of the blinds at the yellow sliver of moon. Tomorrow will be the day, the stars promise and I feel betrayed.