a friend sat down across from me and said i feel off
i didn't hear a sentence about them, i heard a problem
and i'm so good at problems
by the end of the hour i'd handed them a plan
they thanked me the way you thank someone for directions
to a place you've already decided not to go
the one i love sat on the edge of the bed with a wet face
and i asked what happened, and what they needed, and what we could do
three questions, like i was taking an order
they looked at me a long time and said never mind
at my house a feeling needed a reason or it was a performance
what are you crying for, what's anyone done to you
and if i couldn't name it they said then stop
so i learned to go find a reason first, like a receipt
before anyone would let me keep the thing
when somebody died the people who loved me came with their reasons
it was their time, they're somewhere better, everything happens
i stood holding a paper plate and collected them
eleven reasons, and under all of them the same hole, still open
then i did it to everyone else
i said at least, i said look on the bright side, i said you'll feel different tomorrow
i watched them nod and fold the sadness down small enough to carry home
it took me years to see i wasn't fixing their pain, i was leaving the room it was in
and i did it from my chair, with my hand on their shoulder, so nobody could tell
once i said to someone who loved me
i don't know what to think about what i'm feeling
and they laughed, the kind of laugh that lets you off, and said that's a strange sentence
and it was, thinking is something i do and feeling is something that happens to me
i'd been sending one to negotiate with the other for years
reasoning with a bruise as if it were waiting on my opinion
some feelings don't add up because they were never a sum
i try to count the people i did it to and the number keeps changing
the friend with the plan, the ex, the sibling whose voice shook and who stopped calling
a child i was supposed to be watching who said i feel weird
and i said you're fine
i said you're fine to a child, and i can still hear how sure i sounded
there was one, years ago, who sat with me a whole evening and said nothing
and i was furious, i wanted advice, i wanted anything
i went home and told people they'd been useless
i've thought about that evening every week since
i thought they'd given me nothing
they trusted me to survive my own sadness without a handler
it was the one evening i got to be exactly as sad as i was
last winter the one i love woke me at four, shaking
said i don't even know why, i don't have a reason
and every answer i own came running
a feeling isn't a question, so every one of them was addressed to nobody
i let them run past
i said you don't have to have one
they said aren't you going to tell me it gets better
i said i don't know if it does, i'm right here
and it came up out of them from so far down it sounded like somebody else
i held on and did nothing for hours
and nothing was the hardest thing i've ever done
it came, it crested, it went through them like it had somewhere to be
and all i had to do was stay in the room
in the grey before morning i said their names, one at a time
the friend with the plan, the ex, the sibling whose voice shook, the child
and i let each of them be as sad as they needed to be, years late, to a ceiling
the one i love asleep on my arm
i can't hand a feeling to someone after it's gone
too late for every one of them
and just in time for one
—lyra moon (the kid i was supposed to be watching is taller than me now and asked how i was and waited for the answer)
october 26, 2026