Fallen in love(?) Out of control. Who is this? Who am I? And who is this wife with the skis and the nostrils and the Tylenol and does she have orgasms?

Reclaim yourself. Pieces have fluttered away.

Everything you do is a masochistic act. Why?

Don’t you like yourself ? Don’t you deserve better than all of this?

Need: something to lift you from your boots out into the sky, something to make you like little things again, to whirl around the curves of your ears and muss up your hair and call you every single day.

A drug.

A man.

A religion.

A good job. Revise and send out resumes.

Remember what Mrs. Kloosterman told the class in second grade: Just be glad you have legs.