Emily 18 Alone In The Pool At Nightrar Direct

She pulled out her phone and scrolled past the notifications: two texts from her mom ( Hope you’re eating real food! ) and a meme from a friend she hadn't spoken to in weeks. She set the phone down without responding.

Perhaps the "alone" was the most important word. Not lonely. Alone. There was a difference. Lonely was a wound. Alone was a room you could furnish however you wanted. She climbed out of the pool just before 1 AM. Water dripped from her hair and clothes, leaving dark spots on the concrete. She grabbed the towel she had left on a lounge chair—a faded blue towel from a beach vacation when she was twelve—and wrapped it around her shoulders. emily 18 alone in the pool at nightrar

Things I want. (Real ones.)

But she knew.

And for the first time in a very long time, that felt like enough. Emily woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through her blinds and the sound of birds arguing in the oak tree. The towel was still on her floor, damp. Her hair smelled faintly of chlorine. She pulled out her phone and scrolled past

What do I actually want?