Small

I have felt so small, so many times today.

There are many kinds of small. There's the small you feel when it's you in the middle of a field at night staring up at the starry expanse of universe above you and realizing just where exactly you fit into the grand scale of all that exists. That is a good kind of small. Terrifying, intense, but ultimately somewhat assuring.

The small I felt today was the ugly kind of the small, the mean little monster that attaches itself as your shadow and casts a gloom over your whole day.

I felt small when I went to try on dresses at the department store and their largest size was still too tight.

I felt small when people stared or downright pointed at my hair (I've recently dyed it pink/red/orange), and not in the "oh-isn't-that-different-but-not-unpleasant" way. In the way that someone might stare at someone who unknowingly has a noseblood... horrified fascination mingled with the desire to laugh because the person has no idea what they look like. But even that's not accurate, because you feel slightly sorry for the person with the nosebleed, or you at least let them know eventually so they'll stop it. These people just stared and pointed and looked at me like I was shifty or irresponsible or just altogether nasty.

I felt small because I was tired, and because I was in a strange place surrounded by too many movements, noises, sights. Too many people too close to me. My mind was a whirl.

I felt small because I felt like I could melt into the wall and no one would ever notice or care that I was gone.

I felt small because that tight dark feeling that haunted me so much of last year is back, and as strong now as it was then, and I hate the thought of zombie medication, but I don't know if I hate it more than this.

sharp as slice and not as nice and if you when you-but you-no. not what was ever going to happen. not in the very briefest while.