Walking arm and arm with Nick through a hotel casino, I felt him looking at me with a weird sense of distaste. I self-consciously scanned myself to see what he could be judging. My jaw was sore, my breath was shallow, and my shoulders were tight. I also noticed this was the first self-check-in I’d done all weekend. What’s going on? I thought to myself.
I caught a reflection in a black glass panel. There was a girl with a huge smile. She looked warm, but lost. Her eyes looked like two gaping holes that used to be windows to something deep and expansive, but now they were empty.
It was me. My soul was not in my body. My smile was pasted stiffly to my lips and my energy was plugged directly into a one-way circuit to every other person in the room. I watched as I let them drain me. I watched as I gave them everything I had.
I flashed back to my childhood. “Smile and wave, boys!” My mom and I used to joke in the crowds. “Smile and wave.”
Smile and wave. Smile and wave. Smile and wave. Smile and wave.
“You don’t have to smile for these clowns.” Nick said quietly in my ear.
I looked at the girl in the reflection.
You don't have to abandon the building anymore, I told her. I’d hang her some curtains for the days where the light got too bright.
It may take some time to get used to staying here, I told her. I'd be here to remind her.
You're safe, I told her.
I'd make it so.
I told her she could come home, where she wouldn’t have to be anything for anyone.
Isn’t that the definition of home?
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