I shouldn’t be reading this.
I know that.
But I keep doing it.
I opened the same page again.
I leave it open for too long.
Then I close it.
Then I open it again without thinking.
It’s always the same.
Or almost.
Today something felt different.
Not in the text.
In me.
I reread a sentence I had already read before.
I shouldn’t have liked it.
But I did.
And that’s what embarrasses me.
Not the content.
The repetition.
I looked at my phone as if someone could see what I’m doing.
There’s no one.
Still, I hid it for a second.
I opened it again.
I checked if the same page was still open.
It was.
I scrolled down a little.
Without meaning to.
Just to see “how far it went.”
Then I went back to the beginning.
Again.
As if the first reading wasn’t enough.
As if I needed to confirm I had really understood it.
But that’s not it.
I’m not trying to understand.
I’m trying to feel it again.
That’s what I don’t say out loud.
I closed the screen.
I opened it again.
It was already open.
Or it felt like it was.
A strange tiredness came over me.
Not physical.
Like I had already done this many times before today.
But I can’t remember when it started.
I thought about stopping.
I kept my finger still on the screen.
Not moving.
Just waiting.
As if the page could decide for me.
And the worst part is this:
I don’t know anymore if I’m reading this because I want to…
or because something in me is getting used to it too fast.
My neck I should…
