it’s quite the beautiful tragedy,
the fact that i’m not severely unhappy anymore,
just slightly.
i’m just slightly miserable.
i don’t feel worthless every single night anymore,
just some nights.
sometimes i even feel a little slither of love for myself.
my oxytocin levels are improving.
it’s enough, for now,
to just be slightly unhappy.
just slightly depressed.
i just hope one day,
i can be more than okay.
and i hope that one day i can no longer be slightly unhappy,
but slightly happy.