Nod and Continue

He said I needed to communicate

more proactively, and said it kindly,

the way you say things to someone

you don't think will break.

The fluorescent light above his desk

hummed at the exact frequency

of something I couldn't identify.

I could see myself in the dark monitor—

just the shape of me,

nodding.

I said that's fair. I said I'd work on it.

I drove home on the highway

and the pressure behind my eyes

never went anywhere,

just sat there like a guest

who won't leave but also won't come in.

I made pasta. I ate it standing up.

I still haven't.