While I'm waiting to update my last post (which can only happen when you WRITE to me) here's something I wrote that you might like. I wrote it tonight, thinking about my life, as I do often, listening to music, my cigarette smoking busily in the ashtray.
I grow older and I learn.
I learn that Chicken Soup For The Soul was right all along and kisses aren’t promises. Or handcuffs.
I learn that sometimes, even though you’ve been brought up to be very honest, sometimes, you have to be quiet about the truth.
I also learn that telling the truth is sometimes the toughest thing in the world, not for the consequences you will suffer but for the expression in the eyes of someone you love.
I learn that it’s not okay to cry, that being truly adult means being able to let a painful lump form at the back of your throat and smile at people and interview others and file stories, like a normal day.
I learn what it’s like not to think only of yourself, how to consider other people. I also learn to think only of myself and how to act in self-interest.
I learn happy things too.
I learn that the fur behind my dog’s ears, especially just after she’s had a bath is unbearably silky and soft and I want to curl up and live there.
I learn how to put on eyeshadow, without looking like a paint-by-numbers experiment.
And in baby-steps, in just-about-crawling, I learn to very slowly unclench my fists and let go. I learn how to take deep breaths, but still feel happy at the brilliant hot white sky, at the pool of sweat forming in my bra, at the fact that the goddamn birds are chirping, that I’m driving with the windows down, that I’m having an interaction with my friends, that I’m flirting and being flirted with, that I’m alive, no matter how cliché that sounds.