wyndham rewards

i'm in a motel in Green River, Wyoming. it's hard to remember how i got here even - hours of screaming, crying, agony. breathless sobbing into my phone at various rest stops and gas stations. bleating really. i feel a little embarrassed now, thinking back on it. but that's where i landed, that was the sum of my experience, and i lived through it fully.

right now though, i'm sitting at the Super 8 complimentary breakfast table. they're playing news about hurricane dorian on the tv. my problems feel small and insignificant, spoiled even. it's so spoiled to love someone and feel them pull away from you, to spend hours writing and feeling and crying about it. what makes me think i have the right? hurricanes are real and they blow people's houses over.

Wyoming is a bleak place, full of bleak looking people. i look at them and wonder how different we are. their starched jeans and suspenders, hats that say "straight-shooter". their pock marks and persistent coughs. i am eating a toasted pastry and wearing a reversible tank top. my BMI is very low. i want something badly and it's causing me suffering. would they have seen themselves in me, mouth-open howling into the passenger seat? have they had their own moments like this? i feel loneliness in almost everyone - the people of motels, the people of truck stops. my life is a technicolor wonderspray compared to these, it feels like i couldn't even explain it really. and yet here i am, feeling worse than anyone.

i'm anxious, i can't sleep, i don't know what to do. i don't feel complex or special, i feel small. reduced and baby-like. literally now, the whole world is open to me but i can only think about one thing.



atm1