once one of our regulars asked me to hold her month-old baby and when i took him i said, “i can’t remember the last time i held a living thing so small”, and my coworkers laughed and said (half-jokingly so as not to embarrass me but i knew they were really scolding me), “ellen—word choice!” i guess it came out sounding weirder than i’d meant it and maybe i shouldnt have said “living thing” but what i meant was that he felt so soft and fragile and barely had any hair at all and the skin over his skull was so thin you could see his tender veins. what i meant was that he’d only been born a month after i started working there and that if i was his mother then maybe i’d always be trying to get someone else to hold him as well. till this day they still don’t let me live it down but i didn’t mean it the way it came out at all

always: ive thought myself out of other situations and other bad feelings and i’ll think myself again out of this one. always: never settle until i’m not the loser anymore. never settle until i’m the one who’s gained the most when everything is put into a balance i can be satisfied with.

(even though, of course, i always lose. always. but i’ll think myself into a way of living where i can be comfortable with that too. i’ll romanticise loss, ill romanticise rejection and loneliness. until it doesn’t hurt me anymore.)

((but never learning anything.))