(no subject)

[steverogers_awakening]

Private

I tell myself there's no point making myself sick with worry, but I can't help it. Either of it: worrying, or making myself sick. I just--

I know he's an adult. And sometimes he does this. And I just have to grit my teeth and wait it out, because he's always come home in the past. But this time it's different. Something is clearly seriously wrong, and it can't get better if he doesn't do something to address it, and I can't take just sitting here and not sleeping and worrying hour after hour and night after night. I know, I know this is a real bad road to go down. Time is a commodity, and I can't waste it. I can't waste anything.

I need to be an adult, damn it. I need to get a grip. But it feels like being on the knife's edge of a panic attack every minute. Maybe it's living alone. Maybe I'm just not able to- it's just- it's so quiet, even with the animals. I used to be a lot better with the quiet.

Maybe if I did something. Maybe if I found something to distract myself, I wouldn't- Crap. I don't even know. I'm just sitting here jittering like I'm three carafes into coffee, pulse so loud I can hear it over Sweetie. I feel like going for a run and never stopping. I'm pretty sure that's a good way to end up puking on the side of the ride. I also think I may do it anyway. I just need to find a way to- I'm-

It feels like losing him, and I can't, I've done that enough to-

I'm barely coherent. Look at this mess. Go. To. Bed. David. Or at least-- don't be dumb enough to do anything alone. Life alert isn't an excuse to be an asshole.


Hey, I know it's...uh, past 10:00; when did that happen?...but does anyone want to go for a run?