"I Was Off Balance" by Ben Goldstein

I was off balance. Too much work with no play. Too much wake with no sleep. Too much drugs with no high. Self care? What self? I don’t know him. Sometimes I see an image that looks like him, fractured on shards of glass when the light hits it at certain angles. But I can’t care for him. I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know what he likes. I don’t know what makes him feel happy, or safe, or sane. I don’t even know how to ensure his survival. Also… I don’t have the time for care. Or the energy. Or any sense of connection or valuation of this person, this stranger. I’m usually pretty empathetic, but I’ve heard too much. I said I don’t know him, but that’s not true. It’d be more accurate to say I know him too well but can’t recognize what he's become. I know all the worst things he’s ever done. Hell, I know the worst things he’s ever thought. That makes it hard. You think it’d be so easy to forgive and forget if you could read people’s minds? No wonder I spent so long trying to use chemical abrasion to erase the contents of my own.