Swallowing,

I click faster on the remote.

The character on screen tries to obey my

flurried commands

to the best of their abilities.

I ignore my phone buzzing in

my pocket, the expectations

that are surely there.

I apologize to people, saying I forgot

that I didn’t watch the time.

To numb myself against the

pain that will soon come

from the other people, watching,

judging, me.

Truly, I am okay.

Or so I think.

I go outside the house to answer a call.

First time I’m outside for days,

though it seems shorter.

The call is short,

leading me back to my game.

I wake up

the next day,

ready for another gaming session.

But little do I know

that my mother has plans for the day.

She herds me out of the house,

as mothers tend to do,

and into the harsh reality.

I adjust slowly,

often panicking

but I return to myself,

not some shut-in.