The looming kind that never seems to fully show itself. The kind that steals from sleep but only whispers in a foreign tongue. The kind that makes threats but leaves you unsure of which are true and which aren’t. The kind that steals from enjoyment with stealth and leaves you with smaller portions than you thought you deserved. It never shows itself fully, always there, always hiding, always laughing.

I think I’m stressed, but fuck, I can’t be sure.