I woke up in the middle of the night acutely aware of my vulnerability. I felt exposed, stripped bare, unnerved by my fragility.
This morning, still weirdly raw, I spied a version of every 1990s lesbian I knew fixing her truck at the Valero. I felt a rush of affinity for this random woman. And a little amused by how cute and young we all were back then.
For a second, time just evaporated.
Bet she’s got no idea she should appreciate being so carefree. But, she probably isn’t. Carefree.
She’s just young.
And I am not so much anymore.