My oldest teased me about this recently. She thinks it is funny that I am so nice and yet I internally freak out when I know I have zero say or control over something. It’s why I have been a bad passenger at times when my children drive. I mean, I tailgate too, but when I do it my foot is on the gas/break.
I don’t like the way I tend to respond to helplessness. I don’t like the way it makes me cry at inopportune times or have this weird, someone just punched the breath out of me, feeling, or how I have to count when I inhale and exhale at night (in-2-3-4-, out-2-3-4) to keep that tingly chest, spot in my eyes feeling at bay.
My first boyfriend was named Bryan. He was a funny, somewhat shy, but very kind 16-year-old who took me on my first real car…
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