Istood there in the shower, the water rushing over me, but I could feel something else, too.
Something warm.
Something salty.
I did not even realize I was crying until I tasted the tears on my lips.
I let them fall.
No shame.
No resistance.
It was not about Melvin.
It was about me…
About the space I was in now.
And the space I had to reclaim.
"When will I get back to me?" I whispered to myself.
The question hung in the air for a moment, as if the answer were buried deep inside me, waiting to be unearthed.
And then, instinctively, I answered myself:
The only person who can get me back to me… is me.