by Kyra-Lianne Samuels I wake up and feel the sorrow wash over me and smile into the familiarity. The comfort is soon followed by guilt, shame, dread. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” I think. “I wasn’t put on earth to suffer,” and yet. And yet. The indignity of my reaction leads to a new wave of remorse. At least I’m already in bed. I never got up anyway.