I Sat on the Edge of the Tub With My Coat Still On

Dear Delyara, I had just gotten home. My purse was still on my shoulder. My shoes were still on my feet. My coat was still buttoned. I walked into the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub, and just stayed there like that, because I could not make the switch from outside-woman to inside-woman. Downstairs was dinner, questions, noise, laundry, the usual evening waiting to claim me. In that bathroom, for three minutes, nobody could see my face. I kept thinking, I am not even resting. I am just delaying being needed. Then my son called my name from the hallway, and I answered like I had not been hiding in plain sight. That may be the most honest sentence I can write tonight: I was already home, and I still needed somewhere to arrive.