Why I buy things online when I'm not okay
It's past midnight, you don't need anything, and your thumb has already opened the site. A sweater, a candle, something for the kitchen, into the basket.
It doesn't start with wanting an object. It starts with a heavy day and a small hollow you can't quite name. So you browse, you add, you check out. And for a minute it's light: something is coming, something nice is yours, just for you. There's something tender in that gesture, it gets me.
But what you were waiting for wasn't the package. It was the minute the weight lifts. It lasts barely longer than the click. When the box arrives, you open it fast, set it down, and whatever was heavy that night is still there, with one more line on your statement.
What you were waiting for wasn't the package, it was the minute the weight lifts.
I was wondering…
Who else, besides you, is supposed to notice the nights that get that heavy?