I was not drunk.
But I was tired.
And I was a little hungry.
It was late.
As Mr. X and I were leaving the house, I was in front of him.
I looked down at the steps leaving the porch and they looked uneven and dangerous.
It was dark.
There were no street lights.
It was out in the middle of nowhere dark.
I felt like I was going to fall.
Like self-filling prophecy, I fell.
My ankle took most of the fall along with my wrist.
My ankle is severely sprained.
Still bruised and a bit swollen even now.
I remained composed.
I tried to stand up on my own.
I tried to walk on my own.
I really wanted to cry.
I really wanted to scream.
I really wanted to just give up and have a temper tantrum.
On the inside.
On the outside, I played tough.
I said to myself, "I can do this."
"I can do everything and anything."
"All by myself."
Except I sort of couldn't.
Except most of the time I can't.
Mr. X helped me get to the car.
He asked if a trip to the ER was necessary.
"No, no. I am fine."
I am always "fine".
Always playing the tough girl.
Because that is who I am.
I do not like to look vulnerable.
Even when I am down.
Even when I just want to cry.
Even when I want to scream.
Mr. X asked me "So is this always going to be the case? Are you always going to play 'tough girl'? The stubborn girl? Or are you going to let me help you."
"Yes, I am the tough girl."
Even as my ankle was throbbing and starting to swell.
He reminded me I did not have to pretend this game with him.
I am trying to not be "tough girl" all the time.
Especially in front of those where I can be the real me.
Those who will let me cry and not be scared.
Those who will hold my hand and tell me it will be okay.
Those who will hold me when I am hurt physically or emotionally.
I really do.
But it is hard.
It is hard to let myself hang out there.
After the last almost year of falling apart, I am trying to be put together again.
Trying to be composed.
We shall see how long this lasts.
I have already had one random unexplained crying spell this week.
Yes, the grief monster is on the edge of haunting me once more.