Bright again

You hear your kids playing in the backyard

with the neighbors

whooping, shrieking

exercising the small measure of independence

you allow

You think maybe you should be out there

coaching, watching, laughing along

But you've had enough

You tell yourself this is good for them

Playground law

The day you came back from the midwest

you painted the pink streak back into your hair

It had faded

But is bright again

When your husband saw it, he said

"I thought you were done with all that."

"No," you said. "Nope. Not even close.

Why would you think I was?"

You're reading Olive Kitteridge

It makes you sad

But also has lines like

"She had the sensation that she'd been seen,

and she had not even known she'd felt invisible"

So you keep going, of course

Because the book contains so many truths

The author gifted with the amazing ability

to convey people's deepest fears and desires

You wish you could write like that

You went out with both of your best friends 

Saturday night

You felt lucky

So lucky

to have found these two women

who let you talk about anything

who let you spew terrible thoughts

and listen

really listen

Moving through the warm July evening

a little wine in your veins

you realized that Going Out isn't

always what you imagine

You remember this

from days when you were single

The emptiness at the end

The money spent

The drinks consumed

For the last year, you'd been imagining

it as something else

Something more fulfilling

But your two girls...they are fabulous

You're down about your writing

low

blue

Sighing a lot. Wishing.

Trying new spins on old words

Wondering when

When?

When...

Comments

[kcinnova]

Yes.