Pt. 2 press play
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a train window as we rush through a tunnel.
The woman looking back at me is glowing.
No matter that half her face is covered in a surgical mask,
remains of a world in turmoil.
Her eyes beam.
Her presence shines.
Her peace radiates.
The silent longing for a text makes me tap my phone.
There’s no pending replies,
just a reminder that I’m alone.
But,
there’s no familiar implosion,
no questions of why and when,
there’s just an ah, and so it is, and so am I.
The cotton candy sized knot in my chest surely left its mark,
but somehow turned from rock-solid
into fluffy sugar,
it evaporates up into a smile
and leaves me sinking a little deeper into the polka dotted bolster of a train that thinks it has some place to go.
The woman in the window gently sends a reassuring wink,
the kind that says;
you’re good,
you got this,
you’re not alone,
you never were,
it just took you a minute to find you.
And that’s ok.
That’s ok.
That’s so so ok.
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