"… and I flushed with humiliation, rolled away from you, and let the fan cool my face. … Later, still awake, … I scooted back to touch the top of your foot with just the heel of mine and finally fell asleep beside you."
—
Erica Moore, Libertad from Coming & Crying.
I know everyone is going on and on about this book, but seriously I have been lying here reading this book for two hours and going through all these emotions, reminiscing and regretting, self-loathing and self-assurance.
But then I got to this part and it broke me. I cried over this one little action, this movement I did not so long ago. Knowing that the person who inadvertently, and still unknowingly, made you feel self-conscious and stupid, has fallen asleep, and of course you are not going to risk waking them up by moving too much, but you just cannot stand to be so close and not touch, and anything is better than nothing, even if it means hovering your foot so gingerly that it still aches in your calf muscle the next afternoon.
I know this feeling, too. I know this feeling, too.
