I Pretended I Was Looking for Something in the Garage

Dear Delyara, I had taken the trash out, and instead of going back inside, I stood in the garage staring at an old paint can and a broken folding chair like they had something to teach me about how to keep going. The house was loud behind the door. Television, water running, somebody laughing, somebody asking a question I knew would become mine if I stepped back in too soon. So I stayed out there in the cold, smelling cardboard and dust and old oil, pretending I was searching for batteries. The truth is, I was trying to gather myself into a shape that could survive one more evening kindly. No one came looking for me. That hurt a little too.