The Gap

I told her the truth:

nobody tells you about the gap.

Not the gap between jobs,

though that's real,

that's the thing you see coming,

you budget for it,

you tell yourself

you'll tighten up for three months

or six months

or however long it takes.

I meant the gap

inside you.

The first morning

I didn't have to go anywhere,

I woke up

and there was nothing

pushing me forward.

No schedule.

No reason

to get out of bed

at a specific time.

I thought I would feel

relieved.

Instead I felt

untethered.

The bank balance dropped

faster than the spreadsheets said it would.

I'd miscalculated.

Or maybe I just spent money

to fill the space

that the job used to fill,

buying things I didn't need

to make the days

feel like they meant something.

My friend is scared

about the money.

She should be.

But the real loss

isn't the paycheck.

It's waking up

and realizing

that the thing you hated

was also the thing

that told you

who you were.

Without it,

you're just

waiting to remember

how to be yourself

on purpose,

and that takes longer

than you think,

costs more

than you can calculate,

and some days

you're not sure

it was worth it.

Even when you know

it was.