Written Wednesday - A November Second

The gray scent of winter had already settled in. I drove up the steep hills of the avenues to see a view of the city. I talked along the way, saying a whole lot of nothing, probably making little sense. In my head I was asking myself why followed by why not.

I wanted to feel, if only for a few moments, what it means to be alive. To feel like I was taking an opportunity. My twenty-second birthday around the corner... I had, for the first time, a fear of not living life. The weight of mortality felt heavy on my shoulders. Twenty-two. Easily, a quarter of my life over.

In a way or two, you were there. You were telling me secrets. The truth. Or, well, at least some of it.

This feeling of raw, unbridled femininity took over. Words like connected and life and mother and earth and sea seeped into my mind. I was empowered with a sense of myself and a sense of womanhood. I felt beautiful. I felt like I had touched heaven with my feet planted securely on earth.

The tiny head and tail lights zoomed up and down State Street. A Winder Dairy truck passed. I looked up at the stars. And realized, though I feel so far away from you, each night we fall asleep under the same sky.

I never wanted to see you go. There were not, there are not words. Only the silent tears as I put my head down to rest.