a short story

You know you're an adult when the end of June = "the end of the fiscal year," instead of equaling popsicles and bathing suits and lots of sunscreen.  Lame.

What's not so lame is that I quit my job this week because a "job promotion" of sorts fell into my lap.  I say "job promotion" because it will still be hard, paperwork-heavy work.  I'll just get paid a little more to do it; I'll get my own office to do it in; and I'll get more vacation days to do more of the aforementioned sunscreen and bathing suit type of activities.

Anyway, what all of this means is that I have A LOT of loose ends to tie up.  So ... sigh ... I am at a coffee shop on this fine Saturday, and it is 82 degrees and sunny out.  Let me say that again.  

It's Saturday.  

82 degrees.  

Sunny. 

And I'm trying to get notes done.

Ugh.

End result of that equation?  This:

That's right folks.  

The math does not lie.  

Working on Saturday = dreaming of adventures to be had.

a pondering kind of day

This is a poem I wrote out this morning, off the cuff.  I suppose it really might be more like a diary entry.  It's not about one person in particular ... more about the struggle to get in touch with my love for people WHILE they are in my life.  Maybe the struggle to really see and be content/grateful?

With that, I'll let you read it and decide what it's about....


It Seems Cruel to Me

It seems cruel to me.  I don’t understand why

people get clearer and brighter

the moment you know you will leave them.

At last, they are finally outlined in gold, standing in front of you

right at dusk.  Their best selves.

Love gets purer.

I looked at you, across from me….

a face I’ve seen in mornings and evenings,

at parties,

sometimes puffy and red with tears,

or laughing,

unaware of the joy spread across it like sunshine.

Afraid, not making eye contact,

nervous to share your secret.

And then, sometimes ... just. so. ordinary.  Unloading groceries.

Reminding me to remind you.

Asking if I’ve seen your keys.

The countless unnoticed moments, so many of them,

too many to separate them one from the other….

Raindrops.

I looked at you and tried so hard

not to take you for granted.

Pulled love out of my heart, thread through a needle’s eye.

It was resistent, stubborn; the thread frayed.

And I scolded myself for such clumsy disregard…

…for not noticing you.

And then, one day, you were gone.

And all the love came rushing in,

Torrents of water,

Engulfing me,

Big and wide and strong,

And I couldn’t breathe

for love of you.

It seems cruel to me.  I don’t understand why

- once lost –

Love gets purer.