Stuffed so full of people places things and ideas that I don’t know how to break out of my own brain. I don’t know how to be a verb, an adverb, any kind of modifier. I don’t have a closet filled with umms and ellipses ready to insert at the beginnings and ends of sentences. I wonder at my incapacity for easy banter, smooth conversation, empty words to fill awkward moments. I feel myself begin to blush and I wonder at my inability to be so free with words and feelings. They saved his life and I’ve been living with them for 2 weeks and I realize, right then, exactly how selfish I’ve been. I smell the scent of jasmine filling the room, just as it did the very first time I stepped in here. Sonya stands just next to her, looking at me like she’s worried, like she’s sad for me, and I don’t have long to dwell on it because I’m distracted. Pats my bare arm with her latex glove, unafraid. She sits down on the right side of my bed. Gentle and green and squinty from smiling. I dare to meet her eyes and I’m surprised to see how soft they are.
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