Why Today Feels Like Grieving The Loss Of A Loved One

for The Establishment

What I remember most are the slippers. I don’t remember putting them on my feet, how they stayed on as I scrambled down the hall of my dorm; a flight of beer-sticky stairs and into the icy night. They were ridiculous slippers––my sister and I had each gotten a pair for Christmas — thick with memory foam and as fuzzy as a long-haired chihuahua. I remember only the snow as it began to seep through the thick foam, how it seemed strange — my fat, ridiculous, ugly slippers in the brutal snow and ice of a Northeast Ohio winter. It’s strange that I would remember the slippers so vividly now, because at the time I was only vaguely aware of the wet and cold that was beginning to seep through the thick padding. Only one word circled through my brain as I ran through the snowy courtyard between two dorms: Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. (continued)

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