I'm alone. Mike’s outta town, in Cleveland to fight a speeding ticket. I’m feeling weird. Playing music that makes me cry, organizing compulsively, flirting with scissors - tempted to cut all my hair off. I told you this was a problem. Trying to hang with Kiynago, who walks away annoyed. He looks back at me with disdain registering on his doggy face, behind the flop of grayish black hair. He’s old and tired. I got him 13 years ago as a sophomore in high school. Imagine that, old boy.
I see photos. Cry. When no one is around I can cry the kind of cry that brings me to my knees. Stumbling, pounding on a pillow kind of cry. It feels good to get it out.
I miss my husband. First time we've been apart since...gee, I don't know. It's times like this you have epiphanies. You change. The first time Mike left town without me, we’d been dating a while and in his absence I realized I was desperately and hopelessly in love with him. Boom. I changed from merely enjoying his company to wondering how I’d ever lived without him. Just like that. I think I'm feeling like that tonight too. I’m always in the middle of a change.
I think being alone is very, very good. Healthy, necessary. I’ve often thought going on a retreat would be great. These kinds of times are usually a catalyst for discovering stuff about myself. I remember when I decided that I love singing, that I hate my hair, that I’m beautiful, that I forgive my father, that I can live without someone, that I will do the best I possibly can, that I always do. And if I fuck up, it’ll still have been my best.
I miss you too, petunia! I'm sorry Kiynago was annoyed, did you forget to feed him? ;)
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