i wish i was a little more delicate

dreaming those nightmares again.  of being pressed against him, our fingers intertwined, while he says the words that puncture wounds in my vena cava.  and then i'm mimi from my previous life- bewildered, hurt, wanting.

but now i wake up without cold sweats, without the fear of loss.  i just wake up alone and think about getaways.  think about traveling somewhere- anywhere- just a plane ticket in my hand or the gas pedal beneath my feet.  think about leaving the imprint of my body against hotel room sheets, kissing strangers, weak light through cold windows in the mornings.  i want to go, go, go.  i've been hearing people say "i need a vacation" my whole life, and now i finally understand.  fifty states don't seem like enough space to weather my restlessness.  i want an ocean at my back and a long road at my feet.

sometimes i don't even recognize myself in the bathroom mirror.  a different person in a different time. happier and more free that i could have ever been.  disentangled from a life of being rooted, stuck, and always wanting.  now i am a monster in the glass, and i will never have those chest pains again.

these are times that can't be weathered and we have never been back there since.