At the End of Everything

by Marieke Nijkamp

Maybe that’s when they’ll call me rehabilitated. Maybe then they’ll care. Not when I’m better, but when I’m the Grace they want me to be and I’ve lost myself completely.

Careful, balancing on the edge of the bed so I don’t jostle or overwhelm her, but close enough that the warmth her body radiates mingles with mine. Close enough that we’re whole and complete together. It’s intoxicating and right, and it makes me feel like my skin can’t contain me.