⿻ th͟r͟o͟ugh the ͟p͟ane

i became good at pretending. i became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. and sometimes， when i did a really good job of pretending， i even fooled myself.

i’m here if you need to talk to someone. you don’t have to let it.

"thanks," taking out a cigarette and igniting it. he held on to the lighter, though; still in his hand.

( grounding. see, touch, hear, *smell.. ) that’s—.. i’d appreciate that. it goes both ways. i’m a therapist, so it’s what i’m good at.

do you feel scared?

"excuse me, lady," about to touch her shoulder but doesn't, "ya got a light?"

oh! no, love, I don't mean something work related. (she looks at the other briefly before focusing on the road. the car smells like chocolate and cherries) I mean... In general. You can get my number if you need help after this.

but i gotta be careful, gotta watch what i say. god, i hope it all goes away 'cause i can't fall in love with you, no matter how bad i want to.

What does this mean. Should I be scared..

if i was in the backrooms id just fight the monsters