I Watched the Ice Melt in My Water and Felt Sorry for Myself

Dear Delyara, I had poured myself a glass of cold water and set it on the counter. Then dinner happened. Homework happened. A call came in. Somebody needed tape. Somebody else needed me to sign something. By the time I came back to the glass, the ice had melted completely. I looked at it and wanted to cry. Not because of the water. Because that is what my life feels like lately — every little thing I set down for myself gets warm before I can return to it. Drinks, thoughts, desires, plans, rest, beauty, all of it dissolving quietly while I’m busy being useful. I drank it anyway. It tasted flat and room-temperature and disappointing. That felt exactly right.