Even after shopping for three hours for new clothes, I’m still rattled by what happened today on the phone with him. I still feel like I’m walking around missing a layer of skin. If I thought I was a goner before, now my armor has been completely stripped away. I’m just a bundle of exposed nerves, feeling everything too strongly.
I pass a hotel on Pacific Coast Highway and almost turn in the drive, but at the last second I convince myself not to be such a coward. A few more nights at Brody’s until I find a place won’t kill me. And he deserves, at the very least, to be kept informed of my plans.
Not that I have plans, per se, it’s more of a general sense of panic that I should be doing something more to keep myself safe.
How do people walk around like this, so soft and open, experiencing
