We Are Okay

by Nina LaCour

took my money, I felt like she wanted to keep me here. I wonder if there’s a secret current that connects people who have lost something. Not in the way that everyone loses something, but in the way that undoes your life, undoes your self, so that when you look at your face it isn’t yours anymore.

Loss

There are the ghosts of who we used to be.

I wasn’t enough of a companion. I wasn’t any kind of anchor. I felt the blow of it but I swallowed the hurt and said, “I’m sure she feels the same for you.”

The trouble with denial is that when the truth comes, you aren’t ready.

If our past selves got a glimpse of us now, what would they make of us?

I wish her more happiness than can fit in a person. I wish her the kind of happiness that spills over.

It’s a dark place, not knowing. It’s difficult to surrender to. But I guess it’s where we live most of the time. I guess it’s where we all live, so maybe it doesn’t have to be so lonely. Maybe I can settle into it, cozy up to it, make a home inside uncertainty.