"you're doing better than you think you are"… she said that and the kitchen… the floor felt solid under my feet. I didn't even realize I'd been floating, like a kite cut free. The tightness behind my eyes eased… a little. It’s always the simple things isn't it, the words you needed to hear since you were small, the way they rearrange something inside… unfurl… now I'm writing them on the bathroom mirror in dry erase marker, the glass cool under my fingertips and each word… a tiny act of rebellion, maybe against the voice, maybe against everything that made that voice so loud in the first place… Richmond smells like jasmine … the air feels heavier, softer. maybe that’s what it is… softening.