the rashy smelly crying girl at work

Bookend: noun: a support for the end of a row of books to keep them upright. often one of a pair. 

I smelled pretty bad by the end of the day today. I am trying to switch to the kind of deodorant that doesn’t have aluminum in it to protect my body and the super fucked world or whatever but turns out I need aluminum to not smell unbathed and since today I didn’t have it, I smelled bad. You didn’t have any in your purse even though you usually do.

Also, I am apparently allergic to the expensive “natural” kind, so today I was the rashy smelly crying girl at work.

You hugged me anyway.

Oh yea, the crying. I was pretty horrified to cry in front of Dr. Fox this afternoon. He’s only one of the most well-respected physicians at our institution or whatever, but it’s fine cause sometimes we see some really sad shit. He gets that more than most.

 I tried to bite my tongue to keep the water in my face but all it did was add physical pain to emotional pain and make my mouth taste like brassy blood.

 how many tears do you think have dropped on the floors of the children’s hospital where we work? I know intimately that no matter how hard you try and how much blood you swallow, sometimes tears fall and just won’t stop. I’m surprised the place hasn’t flooded yet.

 Instead of addressing the fact that we spent afternoon clinic together in a sad dumpster that happened to be on fire, Dr Fox smiled at us.

 “Look at you two. Bookends. Together. In the thick of it”

 It felt like he circled a highlighter around my joy to be with you.

 My friend and my light in the dark.

Thank you. For the love and the grace and the faith in me and the world.

Thanks for being my bookend. You keep me upright.

You’re the other half of my pair.

 I promise to buy some aluminum-based deodorant soon.