What’s that word for when you wake up to pee at five o’clock in the morning, and Ingrid Michaelson’s ‘You And I’ won’t stop playing in your head?
When your knee is still throbbing from the other day, because you were matched to grapple against the same guy who played tic-tac-toe with your heart, as you wobble to the bathroom.
When upon leaving that bathroom you stop and stare at yourself in the dirty mirror dissecting everything wrong with how you look and beg to God that a homemade egg facial mask, good Hispanic style blowout, and an Indian eye brow threading will conceal the fragmented pieces of your broken confidence long enough for sushi and a movie.
When you thank your still awake mother, who’s in full on cleaning mode with ‘Three’s Company’ as her fuel, for tucking you in and wishing so very hard that it could always be this easy with her.
When you scroll through your Facebook news feed for any new information and ‘like’ everything because you know that’s all people truly want; to be liked.
When the realization of his lifestyle choice hits you seven months after the fact, and you can’t shake those images that have been plastered to the roof of your mind so you scream at your cat until your lungs collapse because it’s better to isolate the pain rather than feel it everywhere.
When the cuticle of your big toe is almost as long as the nail.
When it’s past due time for a pedicure.
When you’re 22 and it’s “time to get your shit together”.
When you crack open your chest cavities and only get a B+.
When you’re the key to her alcoholism.
When it’s almost time to wake up grandma for her morning routine.
When you’re torn.
What’s it called?
-erica jeudy ©