Audrey, Not Fitting
Now, when people want to talk to me, their voices and faces blur, and I can’t keep up with the flow. The pressure from my grip reminds me that I have a body and that I am still here, but I still retreat into my mind—into science: pipettes, measurements, and straightforward procedures—since these things never surprise me and never require me to guess what they mean.
Though my mother says it’s my graduation party, it still doesn’t seem like it’s really mine. The way people laugh is confusing—sometimes I’m not sure whether I am meant to laugh too or if the joke is about me. When they laugh, I watch my mother’s face first, because hers tells me fastest whether it’s safe. A half-second delay, then I arrange my mouth to match. I have practiced this enough that I can usually get there before anyone notices the gap. It’s tiring to try to fit into a world that doesn’t match how I feel inside.
Discover more from MeanderingPassage
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.