beauty in the breakdown

i stood on the balcony, looking out over the parking lot below. thinking to myself. this can't be real. this can't be me. this isn't my life. these aren't my eyes looking out onto the cars below. this isn't my skin feeling the breeze through the open door. this isn't the night i had in mind. i don't hear you talking in the background. close to tears. wishing i knew the right words to say. wanting to help. having no idea where to even begin. i got lost in my thoughts. why am i not that tan yet? my shirt is more wrinkled than i thought it was. my flip flops are my third favorite possession, after the cuff watch and the nomad of course. i wish i was skinny. i wish i was happy. i wish i was good enough. i hate being lied to. i hear you apologize. and then you ask me to bring you a box. i step off the balcony, out of my head, and into the bedroom.