Five Total Strangers

by Natalie D. Richards

I uncross my arms and force myself to tune in. Because that isn’t me. I’m the one who’s fine through all of it, at the hospital. At the funeral home. Even when we put her favorite flowers on the grave this summer. My mom fell apart, but I held on to my art and did what my aunt asked me to do, and I’ve been fine. I’m always fine. Because I can’t let myself be anything else.

“I’m fine,” I say. I learned after Phoebe that if you say it enough, people believe you. Say it even more, and you’ll believe it yourself.

You have to smile or say something reassuring exactly like Kayla just did. Somehow, even though you’re the one with the trauma, you become the comforter to the person fumbling through an attempt at sympathy. Usually you end the awkwardness with a thank you, but Kayla doesn’t.

numbness is a gift. It keeps us moving and helps us to survive the things that feel unsurvivable.