sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the
kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and
listening to music that for some reason is really getting to
your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about
going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more
exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you
plan on taking and relationships that are springing into
existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less
exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in
your skin or in your house and you just want home but
‘Mom’s’ probably wouldn’t feel like
home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number
in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that
were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when
you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where
nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are
feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be
this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever
been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from
sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as
much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The
coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and
out. You’re going to be fine in about five
minutes.