We Are Okay

by Nina LaCour

We were nostalgic for a time that wasn’t yet over.

We were innocent enough to think that our lives were what we thought they were, that if we pieced all of the facts about ourselves together they’d form an image that made sense—that looked like us when we looked in the mirror, that looked like our living rooms and our kitchens and the people who raised us—instead of revealing all the things we didn’t know.

Because if we have any sense of self-preservation, we do the best with what we’re given.