Deep End

by Ali Hazelwood

What I want done to me, he wants to be the one doing it.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I start, but he’s already shaking his head. “I owe you respect, I owe you care, and I owe you the truth. You, on the other hand, do not owe me forgiveness. But if you ever enter this kind of relationship with someone else…” His jaw grinds, tense. I don’t think he likes the idea. “These are the things you should demand.”

How easy it is, to transition from the animals we can be into the frequency of civilization. From hierarchy to equals.

In the past year of self-loathing, training, practicing, trying, failing, trying again, visualizing, exercising, catastrophizing, not catastrophizing, resenting, fearing, pretending, demanding…In the past year, being sorry is simply not something that I ever allowed myself.

“I’m afraid of the unpredictability of existing. I’m afraid of not being able to control the direction of my life. I’m afraid that no matter how much I plan, I won’t be able to avoid hurtful and sad things. But above all…” I take a deep breath and laugh softly, because what I’m about to say is ridiculous, even if it’s true. Even if it’s me. “Mostly, I’m afraid of attempting something and not being perfect at it.”