I met myself...

 I met myself on the bathroom floor. The tile was cold and the edges of every square chipped. My hair was knotted and all I could think about was the visceral feeling of being touched by someone I no longer loved. My head fell against the smoke stained wall, my gaze was anything but soft. I couldn't stand not knowing myself anymore. I know my favorite color is red and my favorite fruit is a green grape but not the version of myself that came after everything I used to be.

I met myself in the driver's seat of my old Volkswagen. Adjusting the seat to see over the dash and only letting the volume fall on even numbers. I drove for hours circling a part of town I no longer loved. I changed my clothes and my face. The past that seemed so near turned into a fragmented capsule of memories that I could not remember fully. Much like when I think about being ten years old.

I met myself in the backyard of my first real home. I laid my back down on the mildew covered grass and looked at clouds. I wanted to relive my time with the woman who raised me, envisioning different animals in the sky. She never loved a man and I never wanted to either. I felt green strands stain the back of my white pants and realized my mom loved my dad, but my dad no longer loved anyone.

I met myself in a blue blowup pool outside her one bedroom trailer. She made me dollar store mac and cheese, I didn't eat any because my sister needed it more. Her blonde hair was fraying at the ends and the small gem above her lip was my favorite thing to touch. She braided my brown curls and I braided my sister's. She was tough, but not vicious. Not vicious enough to fight the scars on her arms, so she made more. She was alive no longer. I could no longer touch the gem above her lip. I could no longer love her.

I met myself at the kitchen table. My plate almost empty on purpose - for the first time. Scraping my fork on the white ceramic surface. The sound louder than my stomach. I ran back and forth to the mirror after every bite I took, making sure I chewed my food forty-two times. I was prettier than I ever believed. No one ever said anything to change my mind. They could not change my mind. I no longer loved my body.

I met myself on the deck of a glass penthouse an hour away. I had bruises on my neck and no makeup could hide the outline of his fingers. My lips were bloody and skirt torn. His smile made cry - I hated his smugness. I knew that I would never be the same again. I no longer loved myself. I could no longer trust myself. Hatred encapsulated me. It only lasted five minutes. Only. I must be grown up now.