I am intuitive and intelligent, able to see situations and speak with authority effortlessly;

but I am the first to deafeningly tell myself that I don’t belong in any room, imposter syndrome invariably louder than my own voice.

I am passionate and loyal, no one would question my love or intentions;

but I’ve never learned how to break the cycle of constantly breaking my own heart when I don’t know when to let go.

I am affable and affectionate, always willing to lend my advice or my support or my world-famous hugs;

but I am solidly in middle age and still haven’t mastered recognizing when I am being taken advantage of until it’s too late.

I am confident yet doubtful; I am unyielding yet breakable; I am tranquil yet anxious.

I am Human.

I hope we are the normal people that they refer to. The ones who find each other no matter what. Throughout all of the life changes, preparing us for what's to come.

To love. Like we could've. But it wasn't the time then.

I hope the time is approaching, as I need you more than ever before. I beg that you still like me like you did back then. I couldn't bear the heartbreak I would feel if you got up and left. After countless nights of crying for you, pleading with the angels to bring you back to me. Please, stay. So I can too.

Edmund's supposed to defend his PhD on sleep science, but he's got nothing. I've done more this year than he's done in four. Only one trial left for this study.

"Hey, can you run it on me tonight? My participant ghosted me," I ask him.

"Sure."

Several dreams later, I'm half awake but my eyes feel glued shut. I can't move. I hear footsteps, then Edmund's voice.

"Your work will make a fantastic thesis."

I feel cold fingers suddenly clamp down on my nose. I can't breathe. I try to scream but sleep paralysis has me on lockdown. I can't–