Once you tell someone your story, you can’t take it back. I wonder if Mia thinks about it whenever she thinks of me. If, in her mind, I’m inextricable from this ugly experience I shared with her in a rare moment of vulnerability. Sometimes, having shared this with her, having this close history, makes being around her so easy, so freeing, like gravity doesn’t exist. And sometimes it feels like I’ve been stripped of my skin.
