I am once again reminded that, unlike my favourite characters in my favourite books, I am real.
There is comfort in the idea we are merely ideas. We say 'none of this is real' and 'none of us are real' so none of this matters anyway. But, at my core, I know I cannot escape myself.
I am as real as they come. This truth is inescapable and unbearable. I am real in this world where, honestly, everything matters quite a bit














