I'm Fine and Neither Are You

by Camille Pagán

and besides, he probably would have broken up with me eventually. Wasn’t it smarter to preempt him and deal with the loss on my own terms?

And Sanjay was such a heavy sleeper that by the time he was conscious enough to be of any use, I was already wide awake and finished with putting Miles back to bed.

I ultimately decided I did not believe that Jenny’s problems had canceled out every good thing in her life or her ability to enjoy them.

If you’re not happy, make a change.

I considered—for the first and only time—whether it was worth it to continue living. Because if my own mother could not love me, then who would?

The bigger issue was that I was afraid. Because I had been spending way too much time thinking about how nice it would be to escape the ever-mounting pressures of our life. Before Jenny’s death I told myself this was a normal fantasy for a woman under duress.

She was an odd one—that was clear from the get-go. But she was smart and friendly, and I felt a little bad for her, which in retrospect is a lousy reason to invite someone into your life.

I broadcast my sexual disinterest with granny panties and gray bras that hadn’t been white in years.

My head was throbbing. Three glasses of wine on a school night! Who did I think I was, Mick Jagger?

A car, a car, a car, a car! I heard Jenny say. Could you, would you in a car? I could not, would not, in a car.

“All I’m saying is that if things aren’t okay, then don’t act like they are.”

“Thank you for doing this,” I said to Sanjay. “I didn’t do anything except take your father’s call. He’s here because of you. Because you told him what you needed from him.”

Wherever she was, I only hoped she knew I had received her parting gift—the ability to look beyond what was missing and be thankful for all that remained.