How, in a day, can one person go from feeling promised to god-awfully alone? What exactly changed in the last 24 hours? Was it the dream where I came upon a bridge, blocked off and blending the sky, concrete and water in such a way that couldn’t see where it ended? The sign reading Wilkes-Barre, the roads the same roads I grew up on in California. Where is my brain taking me? Or my heart for that matter?
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this uncomfortable in myself. I’m pushing against my skin wanting to show simply who and what I am, but the friction between self and body, yes and no is turning me into the gangly, awkward new girl. Every word, movement, question feels loose and unclaimed. I’m sweating through shirts. Even something simple as a hello trips around me. It was one thing to be shy as a little girl, there were places to hide, like behind my mother, but now I have no where to be but in myself. I want the robot to take over, get me through these first few weeks and then slowly ease myself back into myself. These are the times when I hate living on the surface of my skin. For as much as I try to hide, it’s all up there: blood, success, failure. Awkward is a hive. I just want to know already, be trusted, belong. Maybe it’s because I’m used to building relationships one at a time? That’s a good number for my system to handle. Add 8, 10, 15… please just put a bag over my head.
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