Today was weird for me.
I was so nervous and trembling with guilt.
~I don't have enough money.~
But my grandmother was going to buy everything.
I saw her pick out things like the price meant nothing.
She saw a pretty blouse and said "do you like it?"
Of course I liked it.
It was a pretty blue and had a very adorable set of flowers at the cusps.
The flowers were vintage.
It spoke of a librarian's day off.
A golden morning while sipping coffee,
with a walk on the beach after lunch.
but it was thirty dollars.
And I knew that if I said I liked it, she would toss into the cart.
She couldn't.
~ I don't want you to spend money on me.~
I shriveled.
As if I had aged significantly in under thirty seconds.
my back caved and my arms tucked themselves around my waist.
I suddenly found a great source of interest in my feet.
"I think it's really pretty," I utter.
"Do you want it," she asks.
It hangs like a thirty pound weight in her hands.
Of course I wanted.
"Oh, I don't think they have my size."
Of course they had my size.
She put it in.
I felt my soul snap.
How could I ask to spend so much of her earned money on me.
She works two jobs, and decides to use her paycheck on a lavish blouse for her granddaughter.
That thirty dollars could have gone towards food or gas.
How dare I become worth more than comfort?
She bought it despite my attempts to change her mind.

I love the shirt, it fits me well.
I feel confident and pretty in it.
but the guilt feels like I traded the world for it.