She’s gone- her first night in her own place- her first place, chosen, painted, arranged. I’m awake with feelings I can’t sort out yet. Love, fear, anger, envy- she’s close enough I could be there in ten minutes, close enough I feel her heartbeat as if it was my own. It is my own in so many ways, she’s like my double, only better. But without the fear and self-doubt I carry still. I am so excited for her. So proud.

I can’t remember what is was like. I went from home to college to marriage. I wasn’t on my own until I was twenty-seven. Even then the first year I stayed in the house my ex-husband and I bought. I didn’t have to sign a lease or set up utilities or change the mail. And I had a steady job, I was a teacher. Each move was predictable, like checkers or Monopoly. I can’t remember what it was like, even then. It seems as if someone has always depended on me.

This is new territory. I like it. I’m afraid for us both, I think- but I like it.