don’t hang lightbulbs from thread
“what are your dreams for your thirties?” i know she’s talking to me but it hits me with the force of a stone fist to the chest. how can she drop such an earth-shattering sentence in the middle of yoga? i glance at our bird to my right, buying time. “me or liliya?” “you, obviously.” “oh.” my thoughts scramble as liliya laughs and says something about how she has two years left how can she think about that yet? “i’ve known what my goal for thirty was since i was 27.” i say, trying to stop the words bc i can’t —don’t want —to explain them. now both friends are looking at me expectantly and i.... am empty. my mind is a mess bc feelings. all these emotions of pain & regret & the deep excruciating ache of loss swirls up to my throat. the familiar suffocation of T I M E slowly covers my heart. i have several flashes of realization at the same time: these girls love me. i have to face this grief. i can’t run from it anyway. none of the trite excuses for li