In therapy, we are EMDRing our way toward feeling like enough. I show up, I trace the green dot back and forth with my eyes while I think of the worst memory of my entire life and cry about it. And then we do it again. And again. And again. The same place, the same words spoken, the same gold couch, the same familiar face becoming a stranger in seconds....
We stood in the street looking at the house for what felt like hours. It got so late in the afternoon, I didn’t think we were going to make it inside before dark, and we had to be home before dark. It would be fine; we wouldn’t have time to go inside. But I was wrong, of course, and my friends got me to follow them through that open door...
I’ve traveled incomparable distances through space and time to be you. I’ve seen all the things that you’ve missed: the dinosaurs, the Neanderthal’s (who say hello), the Romans, the rise of Nazis, the fall of America. (Oh wait, you’re not missing that, you’re living it.) Within you are billions of years of time getting your back, making your spine tall and strong as a planet of its own, what everything...
The days we went to the beach and searched for sea glass, the days we spent at new breweries, the days we hung around campsites – it was days like these that made me miss you a deadly amount. Deadly, by which I mean, I felt like I wanted to be dead without you; I didn’t think I could live without you. I couldn’t live knowing you were out in...
I remember the days when the rain would fall and we would dance on the sidewalks all the way home. The ground glittered like diamonds under our feet and made us feel like royalty even when we pushed the revolving door into the dump of the hotel. We’d stagger up stairs because the elevator has been broken for years and then collapse onto empty, itchy duvet covers. How gross, how...
