bathroom meditation

It hit her like a train to the gut, all at once while she stared into the mirror that summer morning.

Fix your hair, it’s all messed up from sleeping. Put on that cute blouse you found, you look nice in it. There, wear that scarf he made you, he said you look good in it- wait a second.

Aw, hell.

After that talk the two of them had had, about what happened to them, she cried for him where he couldn’t see her. She hated what the world had done to him. The abuse he’d suffered. The hunger, the pain, the desperation for affection. She hated that he had had everything taken away from him and been driven to try to claim his own life. And the thought that he had tried it didn’t stoke her deeply-seated urges to drink, either. It made her angry. Furiously, disgustingly angry, and even more enraged that there was nothing she could do to take away that hurt.

She’d had a long think after that. About how grateful she was that he had made it this far. Made it here. How much she had enjoyed being stuck in the little cabin with him, how much she kind of didn’t want to leave because of him, even if eventually her sister did want to take her home. After all, what would she do, just drag him with her to that tiny jail cell of an apartment? No. Absolutely not. But she didn’t want to leave him behind, either. It was selfish as all hell, but she wanted to keep that. Protect that. Maybe… forever. It was strange, because she tried not to think about forever. Eternity scared her.

And now, this morning, she caught herself dolling herself up. With him in mind. What? No no, what the hell even was this?

She thought back to a phone call she had made to a city friend during her first week out there. How the conversation had drifted into what romance feels like. She’d never really understood that feeling, not really. Never seen it, her mom had trouble making connections and every guy and lady that had run through that apartment had been gone the next day. She could fuck like an expert… probably, but matters of the heart were beyond her.

Until fucking now, apparently.

This was exactly the feeling her friend had described and it was for her roommate. Oh no. Now here’s a relationship it would be awkward to ruin with your dumb bullshit. Push it back. Keep it on the down low. Come up with a plan later, for now things need to be normal and casual. You’re right in the middle of spring work. The plants need you to not be a fucking goober with a grade school crush. Go sit in the greenhouse and talk to the… thing, about it if you have to.

Yeah, that’s a great idea and not at all insane. Next thing she knew the mondo vine in the greenhouse was going to start giving her romantic advice. She swore up and down that thing was sentient. It listened to her, she knew it did. She was just waiting for the day it decided it wanted to finally talk back to her. Wouldn’t this just be exactly the time and situation for the plant to start talking.

A knock on the door shook her out of her inner monologue. “Are you… okay in there?”

“Fine!! Fine, I’m fine. Be out in a second.” Okay, you can do this. Go out there, do your work, and don’t fucking make it weird.