They say you should never walk into a bathroom with bare feet. But I did everything without shoes. Crying in the bathroom included. I don’t remember how many times it happened. That I did that.
Whether I stared at myself in the mirror or put my head between my knees while sitting on the toilet. The water stained glass. The words etched into the stalls. Small details that don’t mean anything when you can’t get a grip on yourself.
I can’t be sure how long I stayed there. Whether it was five or fifteen minutes. Time was flooded by the tightening of my lungs. My chest burned and every breath was a gasp. It was incredibly embarrassing when someone came into the restroom and I would still be sputtering like a child.
I wished those women had asked me what was the matter. I wished I’d been able to answer.
You know there’s something wrong when the most disgusting thing you can think of when you’re barefoot in a public restroom is yourself.