her head swimming with the ghosts of her past, present, and future like the book her grandpa used to read her as a child.
she doesn't understand how it came to this or where to go next but she sure as hell isn't going back to sitting in her room crying her eyes out when she should be sleeping. she doesn't understand what it's like to feel love because love is just a word and we can't feel words but words are what hurt her the most. she takes the words and wads them up in the back of her mind like the writing she tries to do but doesn't ever figure out. she sits in her mind wondering what it's like to feel real and alive and breathing. she remembers the day in her childhood when she watched tv and ate cereal and imagined being a doctor or a lawyer and now she can't imagine being anything at all. she imagined her husband and her car and her house but now it's hard to imagine even having the responsibility of owning a human body. sometimes she forgets to feed it or give it water and it almost dies. sometimes she gets a little too close to the edge and her body tells her to back up even though she wants to keep going. she can't control her own body:how could she control a house or a car or a job. when she grows up she wants to be nothing at all. she doesn't want to grow up.
