Lilly

I went to the swimming pool twice this week. The first time, things went downhill from the moment my friend peered across the concrete and said, “Is that your ex?” Followed by “I didn’t know she was a lifeguard.” Exactly the person I didn’t want watching me closely as I tried to swim and enjoy myself. I felt childish, too big and too small for my skin all at once, and ended up lying on my towel for most of the time, trying to forget my self-consciousness in the heat of the sun.

The second time, I came with a group. If my ex was there, I didn’t know it; my friends and I were too busy running around, racing each other down the slides and testing which ones were faster or slower and flattening our bodies to speed ourselves up. When we had all had our fill of laughter and chlorinated water, we sat on the grass and ate cake and got bug bites and it was perfect.

This was hard to write about, and I don’t know why. All I understand from this is that my friends make me fearless, and I miss seeing them every day. Hopefully I can remember that carefree feeling the next time my skin doesn’t feel like it fits. I love to swim, and I can only stay dry for so long. ♦