There's this thing I do
you know?
like a tick, a quirk,
a little unconscious action that
no matter how far I think I've come
always resurfaces.
Like... you know?
A bad habit
an-
a relapse.
I just- every time I-
when I care about a person I develop this
this grandiose sense of responsibility to and for them, like
like I have to take care of them and worry for them and
and no matter how many times I tell myself that
that they don't need me to do this
it's not my job
not my responsibility
I always end up
stressing over them and beating myself up for not helping becauseIfeellikeIt'smydutyandlikeIneedtocontrolthemevenwhenIknowt­hereisn'tanythingIcanreallydoandthatthelastthingtheyneedisanother­voicedirectingthemonwhattodo.
You know?
His cigarettes, his drinking,
his obsessive weightloss
things he needs and wants and which make him happy
but which I internalize and which drive me up the wall and
back down the other side into a
fiery crater of overthinking and worry.

I don't think its anything serious, you know?
just a little thing I do.
a little death each day.