Crossing the street, the cars whizzing by distracted me long enough to blink them away. In the cashier line I fixed my stare at the ceiling to will them away. But I lost the battle. I wiped and wiped, but they refused to stop. They fought to be heard and acknowledged.
I made my way to the restroom away from the curious onlookers and bolted the door. They ran freely now but I choked off the screams and moans. Until all I heard was my silent voice saying....I miss you so much. When I realized that in a low moment, all I wanted was you, that's when I allowed myself to whimper a bit.
Someone tried to get in and kissed her teeth, saying she was going to the Manager for a key. I cleaned my face and took deep breaths. I opened the door and went back out into the light. Collected my food and went back to my obligation.
The lowest part of my day was in that public restroom realizing how lonely I've been since you vanished into thin air. It broke my heart.
Now the day is over. A bad day does not mean a bad life. In the bathroom I calmed my hysteria by remembering the comfort I got from the last embrace from my Grandmother and also from my belief that God hugs me every time I feel like shit. Those two motivators trumped my simultaneous fear that you don't care at all.
Dear God, thank You for carrying me today. Amen.