part deux

the scent settles below my skin, nothing short of a whisper to remind me that everything will probably turn out all right sooner or later. the reality is that things go better, not when i will them into existence, but make sure they happen. we stand in the entryway to the restroom and keep light with discussing daily activities. we both avoid the bags under my eyes and my slower response, since it still holds true that i am doing more and better that most times before now.
last night was a sure hit. i prayed to god and jesus and christ almighty that it will never happen again. there was not deep conversation. there was no common understanding. i have never spoken so little of myself. but as good mothers often do (and best friends do better) she stood me up from my wondering (wandering) state half alive against the bathroom wall and reminded me what i was doing; it's so easy to forget... and it's even easier to give up.
i don't have time to give up though- i've already made it this far. and the stink of cleaner carries across the room, nothing short of what i reduced myself to. she moves towards the door, and all i can feel is the linger of comfort barely left in my hair. she smells of olive oil and dryer sheets, soap, rosemary... things that are more often than not.