It’s funny the way that everything can fall apart all around me, and yet, I am nearly unaffected.
When life gives you shit over lemons, you learn to realign your expectations.
But then I stare at the form –
The line that reads: EMERGENCY CONTACT.
I am transported to a place where I am unconscious in a ditch.
Who will EMS call?
Who will answer the call in the middle of the night?
I can hold my own hand.
I can dry my own tears.
I cannot be my own next of kin.
In a world where I’ve become conditioned to be my own everything, this feels fallible.
Part of me would find resolve in dying in that ditch.
Rather than feel their pitiful gaze, a look of realization in their eyes that communicates:
Oh, she’s all alone.