1990s Lesbian

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. 

Comments are closed.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: