28: Happy Happy!!!

My therapist's office is on 34th Street in Manhattan. There are always too many people. People on phones and people taking selfies and people walking slowly, looking up at the skyscrapers, awed, and I remember that they've probably come from someplace far away to marvel at sights I've long stopped seeing. I snap, "Excuse me," and slip through momentary gaps in the throng, a purse-clutching eel. The Empire State Building people have stopped asking me if I'm "going up?" They just stand in the center of the sidewalk, jackets bright. Waiting.

I almost cried during my session tonight, multiple times. I hate crying in therapy; it feels redundant. This entry is very personal, even for me. When I left I told the doorman, "Happy Thanksgiving!" Trying on bubbly kindness like an ill-fitting coat. "Okay, you too," he tossed back, unconvinced. I was like, same.

I don't know. When I left school one of the new teachers told me to have a happy holiday. I only half heard her because the bell rang at the same time, classroom doors slammed open, clanging lockers, shouting high schoolers. I recognized that I should have just said, "You too!" instead of "What?" Because the moment dragged on as she had to repeat herself, watching me quizzically, and then I finally trampled out "Oh, have a happy holiday," and half-smiled and left. I am awkward and clunky to the point of rude. I do know this. Happy Thanksgiving.