entry 14: sick day (may 9)

woke up dizzy, stayed in bed all day. the room smelled sour from half-finished meals and laundry i haven’t washed.

she stood on the desk in her crooked blouse. i whispered apologies between waves of nausea. i told her i felt useless, like garbage.

in the stillness, i imagined her voice — not words, but warmth, like when someone presses their fingers in you and you conform around them.