Sitting

There you are, back in the same position. You remember the regret from last time, but it hasn't stopped you from coming right back to this shit hole of a situation. As you shake your head, one drop of sweat drips off your brow.

Your exposed lower body trembles at the coldness of the air. You aren't used to being so exposed--so vulnerable--in such a public place. The hairs on your naked skin stand on end. The chills run up all the way to your lower back--partly from the cold hard surface, partly from the nervous feelings running through your soul. Hearing a sound, you flinch a bit. Who is coming? What will they think? You sit, you wait. You wonder. How could I make such a mistake again? I haven't even been drinking like the time before. How could I be so careless as not to check? Last time the pain, the embarrassment, the regret--it was almost too much to bear. Of course the news got around to your family and friends. People seemed to think it was funny--laughed about it at parties, called you names. You felt like something inside of you--something that should be kept private--was unconcealed. Ahh. Not again, please God, not again.

So, you wait. Knowing you won't know until you open that door.





As you sit, trying to hurry, and thinking to yourself over and over again . . . "Am I in the wrong bathroom?"