Two times I swallowed it

I smiled when he gave me the envelope. Same smile I always give. Three years of it.

In my bag it sat. I did not open it. Not at work. Not with the marble floor watching me.

Before shift I sat at my desk. My plants. My fairy lights. I opened the sky notebook. I wrote the date. The time. My shoes on the floor. The long hall. The closet where the sheets are kept. I have been putting this off since July 17th. Two weeks of not writing it down.

Lunch with Yerin. Cold noodles. She asked how my mom is. I almost told her right there. I opened my mouth. Then I closed it. She said I am always here. I almost told her again. I did not.

She walked home thinking I am just tired from work.

That is the worst part. Everyone thinks I am fine.

Aigoo. I am so tired of being fine.