It was just after Christmas
when my life turned upside down.
Lacy white flakes still laced the dead grass.
Kayla left a note that she slapped on the fridge
where she knew I’d shift items for a beer.
I realized she was serious when she didn’t walk
through the door after work.
I sank into my chair, tracing where my life
had gone wrong.
Days turned into weeks that crept into months
off calendar pages.
Who I wasn’t isn’t who I wanted to be.
May turned the corner to the Sunnyside
June struck with its bright eyes,
breathing a humid grin.
I counted no friends around,
at least none that I saw around,
so I fought for myself.
I scrolled through counselors
on mental health websites.
One said I needed a lifeline.
I had heated exchanges with my counselor
over who I’d been and what I saw in myself.
Over the course of a year,
my mind, body, and stability were no longer questioned.
My insecurity had worn out its welcome.
I didn’t want Kayla to go.
But I clung to hope of her footsteps
through crowded rooms.
I worked on myself.
I toned my chest
and lost my waist.
I untied the guilt wrapped around my neck
and drop-kicked the stench of its calculated
pleasure in a disaster.
It was autumn, and I wanted to clear my head.
I grabbed my light coat, turned on the porch light,
and exited the home. I twisted the knob to ensure I locked it.
I turned around, and Kayla stood before me.
Kayla had a dark cardigan, tight blue jeans, and her long, red hair wrapped around her neck. Kayla looped one arm above her waist, gripping her other arm.
“You look amazing,” Kayla said, choking back a lump in her throat. Her wet eyes reeked of regret.
“You did the right thing.” I gripped her shoulders.
Kayla lifted her gaze to mine. “You’re not mad?”
“Would I be standing here if I was mad?”
Kayla spilled into my arms. “Never change.”
“Only if you stay,” I said.
Kayla’s ear touched my heartbeat. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”