I awoke this morning to the sound of my garage door opening. I screamed, jumping out of bed and standing there, frozen and terrified, for a moment before I realized it was 6am and it was just my mother. Probably. Still, I stood there a moment longer, listening to the familiar morning sounds that I typically hear through a sleep induced haze, when I am warm and safe and where nothing can hurt me, waiting to make sure I was right.
And I was.
I think the sound of my garage door will set my heart racing for a while to come.
I think I've lost everything and nothing seems to matter.
I think I'm staying home this morning and I don't care if I lose my job.
I think I cried so much last night that I'm dehydrated now.
I think I've already been here, and I'm wishing I knew a way back.