september, x.

Monday ate me whole as soon as I came to senses and then it spit me out by the afternoon. 

Two hours of sleep.

One of those nights when I could hear my brain buzzing and fizzling with thoughts.

« Didn’t you? » 

I remember what he said just a few days before that. One’s conviction of their version of an emotional narrative. We are all guilty of it just the same.

« I am sorry » and « How are you? » My anxiety melted away almost immediately. I wouldn’t have to prove myself to him after all. 

We’ve made progress. He didn’t let me go to bed without resolving the misunderstanding. It felt like a mark of maturity versus what we used to be like six years ago. At least, I hope that’s what it is.

No one has the right to tell your story, my dear.

Mi Cama. I think of those two teenagers by the river, fully engrossed in a psychotropic dance. I prefer it for high-powered flows on the yoga mat.

I keep looking up flights, writing lists of cities I’ll travel to. There was a time when this practice resulted in only unrealistic hopes. But not anymore.

Autumn, I can smell it now.