I wanted to know what was normal but no one was talking
by Teresa Finney
It’s now been four days since we saw each other. How are you doing? I’m kinda falling apart, but luckily I have really great friends who remember to ask how I’m feeling, and luckily I make myself do yoga and take a shower and eat dinner at a reasonable hour. I do these things so I don’t fall apart all the way.
There was a time when I would let myself crumble completely. It was before I realized that, despite my track record and previously unsuccessful attempts, I could actually love myself. What that means is that instead of lying on the couch all day, unshowered and in last night’s makeup, I get up. I go for walks after the sun has set (despite the bitter cold). Because before, I would just stay on the couch, dirty and crying and hungry. Paralyzed, I guess. I would let myself drown in the pain because I thought the drowning was just what I deserved.
I know I probably shouldn’t be confused about why you haven’t said a word to me, but I am. I thought differently about you and I. It’s me. The girl who held your hand as you cried about your dad on my couch a month ago. Have you forgotten? I feel like there is a problem. I mean, at any given time you are already ten feet ahead, arms in front of you like a shield. I want to talk to you but I’m afraid of pushing you away. It seems like probably you have already done that for me.
I wish for things to be normal again. Remember what that felt like?