When am I anything but?
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I hugged my knees as I sat on the floor, my trembling back leaning against my bed. I rocked forward and backwards, like a lost child, as it could hush the choked sobs, as if it could soothe my shivering body. As if it could make things better.
The awareness that I was truly alone squeezed me like a cold blanket. Perhaps any of these would have made it better: a parent's warm hug, a sister's reassuring squeeze, a friend's pick-me-up word of encouragement, a lover's caress... But I asked for none of those. Instead I rushed the tears, willing every drop of them to leak out as fast as they can. The flurry of activity outside means that my time alone is timed. It's almost time for me to go out and put on another brilliant performance.
And then and there I broke into a million pieces. Maybe one day I will put them back together. But now all I can do is to stare at the broken pieces,the hundreds of shiny splinters of me, as they looked up at me mockingly, mocking me of what I used to be, and what I never will be.
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I am okay. Aren't I?
