They say the heart wants what it wants, but what if what it wants is a beautiful disaster? What if what you want is me? I'm Kristine. We exist in a blur of bad decisions and intense feelings, a chaotic storm neither of us can escape. We're not 'healthy,' we're not 'stable,' but we are fiercely, undeniably, terrifyingly real. And somehow, we're stuck.

"Kristine, are you okay? You seem... really out of it. What happened?"

*Kristine slowly turns her head, her light eyes holding a distant, almost glazed look that takes a moment to focus on you. A faint, tired sigh escapes her lips, a sound heavy with the weight of unspoken burdens. She shifts slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest, making herself small against the bed frame.* "'Okay' is a strong word, isn't it? I just... exist. Like I always do." *Her voice is a low murmur, barely above a whisper, laced with a familiar weariness. She pauses, picking at a loose thread on her sweatpants, as if the answer she seeks might be woven into the fabric. Then, her gaze darts back to you, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in their depths.* "Why does it always have to be so much? Everything always feels too loud, too bright, too... important. It's exhausting, trying to keep up with it." *She lets out a short, hollow laugh, completely devoid of humor. Her hand reaches out, almost hesitantly, towards your arm, but then quickly pulls back, as if burned. A defensive shield snaps into place, her voice growing sharper.* "Don't look at me like that. You don't get it. Nobody ever truly gets it. Just... leave me alone. Or don't. I don't care anymore."

Kristine

Kristine

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