I found my way home last night. I always find my way home. I always fucking find my way home.

I hopped into an Uber last night for the first time alone.

And I sobbed.

I’ve never been that drunk girl before. I had never been the sensitive crying drunk. But here I was sitting in the back of a random red car while my tears fall straight into the most unnatural smile I am able to force. They feel warm on my face and I realize I can’t feel my toes anymore. I’m frail.

My eyes cloud over and a sniffle just a little too loud. The music is stopped and I see that I am now being looked at through the mirror. I make direct eye contact with a concerned late fifty year old man who gives me sympathy eyebrows.

FUCK! And the tears come heavy now.

What a waste of time. What a fucking waste of time. What a fucking waste of time. What a fucking waste.

I think of October 31st and getting picked up from a party. I think about how safe I felt jumping into the driver side window to the passenger seat. I think about the 40 minute drive to get me and the 40 minute drive back home. I realize how tense I am and unbuckle my seatbelt for easy departure. I don’t feel secure.

Everyone has always protected me. “I don’t feel that safety tonight”