Jettisoned

 I feel disconnected from the most important parts of myself. Like a command center that’s somehow jettisoned or locked down everything vital to its mission. My creative, writer self was put in the airlock and shot out into space. My loving mother self has suffered an energy failure. Some functions are operational, but my babies aren’t getting all of me. My friend self is suffering from communication failures. Half-started text conversations, forgotten birthdays, messages that feel like encrypted missives telling me I’m no longer needed. My partner self is in lockdown. Too exhausted to give comfort, too fatigued to ask for affection. I’m separated from my crew in so many ways.

 

But there’s only one reason why the command center would feel as if she’s failed: And that’s because the command center is in need of maintenance. Slowly, surely, she can bring everything back online, but it’s time to figure out why there’s a power failure. It’s lonely floating out in this space. And yet, I need this time to float so I can come back to myself. Fully. Openly.