Hello You

I could have sworn we had made amends, well, maybe not amends but a type of loose truce. To stay out of each other’s business, but there’s something about these days. Time is moving faster and slower all at once. This old version of myself rearing her lonesome heart. Missing my family, the ones off earth. Missing my family, the ones on earth. I turned on our favorite album Radiohead’s Kid A, and invited her to join me. We stretched, did yoga, we danced, we mirrored one another until she suddenly stopped and looked at my older body and tattoos in utter amazement that this was us now. That we were still here, that we survived somehow. That we are married, that we own our bodies, that we laugh, that we play, that we live in Mexico, and that we use our sensitivities to help others. Her eyes widened, and she asked, “Do we still want to leave?” My eyes filled with tears, the unsalty kind. I stopped dancing and grabbed her shoulders. “Not today, and we can be fucking grateful for that!”