maybe this should be left confidential

one time last year my mom wasn't home by her usual ten. I don't think we had talked all day and by the time it was midnight I had let my mind wander. it was cold outside, but I opened the front door, turned on the porch lights, and sat on the steps. I didn't put on a jacket or shoes, but I wasn't cold, even surrounded by cloudy breath. mia lay on the other side of the glass watching me, and I cried. seventeen and like a five year old girl left at daycare, I cried. I watched the lights change at the corner, illuminating the trees, green to yellow, red. five minutes later she rolled into the driveway, and I don't remember why she was late or if I was mad, but I remember those cold minutes waiting. feeling helpless, and so silly, but it was so real, an unfamiliar wave of childhood (or estrogen). I knew it was stupid, but every now and then when its really cold I feel like Im five years old, grasping for security, unable to feel my freezing fingers. I don't know why I remembered that today.

today, waking up at home, where I found myself still.
I could hear my mom raking leaves, mia's collar faintly jingling, and I didn't move. I remember a similar morning lying in the floor of our apartment in texas, wrapped in sunlight and laziness, running my toes along the cushions of our floral couch, the sounds of my mother's movements.
fourteen years ago, a morning like today's, and I was so safe.