Ah, bittersweet music: reggae, dub reggae. I am lonely. I lie in bed at night listening to my heartbeat. I try to meditate. I try to focus on my breathing.

I try not to be excited that I’m getting up at 6 am to go to a yoga class. I try not to let this keep me up.

But nothing can stop the constant buzzing in my head. The buzzing in my head that is meant to fill my cold, hard little heart. The buzzing that is meant to keep my heart hard and safe: a hard heart cannot be bruised, unless of course, it is clenched so hard it bruises itself. Internal injuries. Trauma of some sort. It’s the fabric of my character. Ha! No wonder “Who am I?” bothered me so much as a teenager and young adult. Who wants to acknowledge that they are sad and lonely – not that they feel sad and lonely, but that they ARE sad and lonely. More than “Janet”. More than “Malcolm”. Ms. Sad & Lonely. (Ms. Lonely & Sad?)