I kept waking up, reaching for my vape, drifting in and out of dreams that felt a little too real. One of them turned into a nightmare — Z cheating on me with someone from his childhood. I woke up with that lingering fear that I’m still going to lose him, even though nothing actually happened. It’s strange how dreams can leave emotional bruises.
Z came into the room right as I was waking up on my own, like he landed in the exact moment between sleep and reality. He asked if I wanted to go dashing. I told him to let me shower first and see how the day unfolded.
I finally used that cleanser I’ve had for over a year to take off yesterday’s interview makeup — a small act of resetting. Afterward, I put on my comfiest “still technically acceptable in public” sweats.
We ate quick bowls of Trix standing in the kitchen while my coffee brewed. Nothing fancy. Just existing together in that ordinary morning way.
We decided not to chase the day too hard. We smoked, relaxed, and let things be slow. I asked him about parts of his teen years. I love learning something new about him, even if it’s still hard to ask questions about his past. I catch myself wondering if I’m stepping on something sensitive — whether it connects to old wounds, his dad, or how he sees himself. There’s always that balance between curiosity and care.
Later, I worked on setting up the planner I ordered. I mapped out my March budget, and… let’s just say I either need this job or a minor miracle. Seeing the numbers written down is sobering, but also clarifying.
The planner isn’t just for bills, though. I’m building it into something intentional — a place to practice small rituals tied to my “peace philosophy.” Trying to create structure that isn’t about productivity, but about steadiness.
But it felt like the beginning of paying attention.
