failed again to be special enough to celebrate, she supposes. still waiting for someone to do it all for her, somehow; to know who she is before she does and make that person feel loved.
ridiculous. she needs to find her answer faster.
before next year, maybe.
there are things she's supposed to want, places she'd rather be, stuff to do if she could.
their absence coils tight around her heart, choking the trivial, meaningless answers she might have had.
if she asks for something mundane, routine, she's failed at something.
at what?
her worst days are easy to endure in comparison, a flat listless expanse of not-here as life slides its rough tongue over the girl she isn't.
"hope you did something fun today!" only sounds like a threat to her, though.
a doll just doesn't know how to be this special.