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Chance

June 13, 2020

Each day is the same. The hours, the moments, are blurring together into one infinite line. Some mornings, I wake up and I don’t know what day it is anymore. Trying to make one day stand out from the others is impossible; curing cancer is a thousand times more likely.
Summer is going to be around the corner soon, but it doesn’t really feel like that. The grandeur of June, of endings and beginnings, is muffled. The wall is an invisible one, but it’s still existing. I was supposed to feel a kind of electric excitement, but I just feel empty. The treadmill that I’m stuck on, I can’t get off. Each day, each moment, is no different. I reach into the deck of cards and shuffle them; I’ve never been good at cards, so the rectangles of color just land all over the floor. Even amongst so much color, everything is the same. My eyes slide through the differences between them. Everything is identical.
There are no new experiences.

Graduation was supposed to be this kind of grand celebration. I remember the day I graduated middle school; we went to the local community college and graduated there. Everything was a giant, chaotic mess, but the good kind. Every single moment had a kind of weight to it. The last time that you saw a teacher; the last time that you would see all of these people standing in the same room. My graduation from high school was supposed to be like this. The same feeling of weight, of everything being so final. But the same feeling occupying my days has spread, until there’s nothing about graduation that feels permanent.

There’s no chance for me to say goodbye.

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