The New Me

by Halle Butler

They don’t notice this on themselves, but they notice it on each other.

I’m reminded of how afraid I am to die, and how every morning is just one more used-up day.

It should be easier to feel good.

There always seems to be this unspoken idea that if I start talking, something bad is going to happen. Like I’m going to take something too far or say something mean or weird.

We’re so much in our minds, waiting for something to happen, acting it out, that the body and the outer world almost might as well not exist, for all it concerns us.