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Stupid medication, stupid side effects, stupid joint pain, stupid fatigue. No camp, no summer job, waste of a year, forget about friends

Maybe things aren’t just going to go back to how they were. Maybe they never can

The doctor’s words echo through my brain. Chronic. Illness. Lupus. Won’t ever go away

Words aren’t going to help me stand up again. Words aren’t going to let me move my aching muscles

“I really think I’m getting better. I think I’m fine. Maybe it was all just a virus or something”

I’m not regular Libby anymore, just some strange kid who flits in and out of school with the same tired excuses