🌪️ The Lost Ones — A Chapter from NarcFlex
I’m thinking of writing another shit book what do you think? It’s called NarcFlex—part healing manual, part survival satire, part love letter to those of us who learned to read silence like a second language. It’s for anyone who’s looked at someone they love and thought: “You’re here… but not really.” This post is a preview of one chapter. A rough, beautiful, haunted chapter. It’s about lost partners. Not the ones who die, but the ones who disappear while standing in the same room. --- She doesn’t like praying. Not usually. But today, under the stale light of a school assembly, my daughter closed her eyes and whispered a single wish: “Please, let my dad’s brain disorder go away.” She’s smart enough to see through the noise. She knows the drinking, the drugs, the neglect. But her soul still holds room for a miracle, even when logic tells her otherwise. She prayed for the man who doesn’t pray for her. The man who lived in our home once—physically, at least. While she was self-harmin...
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