ask me how it is that i can find such pleasure in lying on the couch consuming (1/2) a pint of zambeedo creme de butter pecan ice cream (okay, i probably only got about 1/3 but still) and talking about dislocated elbows and the stupid things boys (jumping off the roof with a rope and a scooter onto a ramp and blowing things up) and girls (crushing acorns and poisonous berries into soup because we're blind and orphans and indians too) do growing up but how they're so dramatically different and for all the shit we go through how it's amazing that anyone survives it at all and why that book up there was the kindest and most meaningful gesture i've gotten in a really long time and how i'll listen and be careful to take it seriously like he told me to because it reminds me that i want a person in my life who is kind and deliberate and knows how to honor his spirit and body because those are the people that can take care of others when they realize that the way to a woman's heart (this woman) is through a love of reading and a deliberate kiss on her son's cheek after he's asleep even when he thinks no one is watching him. and ask me how i know that it is okay to let go of some of the things you thought your heart and head needed to keep beating and thinking and how i know that it turns out to be a relief to be suddenly (almost, sort of) self reliant at least emotionally and to forget then remember how you swell inside when you notice your pillow smells like someone else's hair and it is just a clean and soft smell and not perfumed but just human and that makes you realize that you're alive and sure, you have stretch marks on your thighs and breasts but you can be brave enough to wear a bikini again even if you are currently eating the profit (chocolate) of your new business so that your day has been simple enough that you dream that you are exactly where you are except naked and making french toast for a good friend. oh. and ask me what i know about mixing up voices and run-on sentences too.
ask me
ask me how it is that i can find such pleasure in lying on the couch consuming (1/2) a pint of zambeedo creme de butter pecan ice cream (okay, i probably only got about 1/3 but still) and talking about dislocated elbows and the stupid things boys (jumping off the roof with a rope and a scooter onto a ramp and blowing things up) and girls (crushing acorns and poisonous berries into soup because we're blind and orphans and indians too) do growing up but how they're so dramatically different and for all the shit we go through how it's amazing that anyone survives it at all and why that book up there was the kindest and most meaningful gesture i've gotten in a really long time and how i'll listen and be careful to take it seriously like he told me to because it reminds me that i want a person in my life who is kind and deliberate and knows how to honor his spirit and body because those are the people that can take care of others when they realize that the way to a woman's heart (this woman) is through a love of reading and a deliberate kiss on her son's cheek after he's asleep even when he thinks no one is watching him. and ask me how i know that it is okay to let go of some of the things you thought your heart and head needed to keep beating and thinking and how i know that it turns out to be a relief to be suddenly (almost, sort of) self reliant at least emotionally and to forget then remember how you swell inside when you notice your pillow smells like someone else's hair and it is just a clean and soft smell and not perfumed but just human and that makes you realize that you're alive and sure, you have stretch marks on your thighs and breasts but you can be brave enough to wear a bikini again even if you are currently eating the profit (chocolate) of your new business so that your day has been simple enough that you dream that you are exactly where you are except naked and making french toast for a good friend. oh. and ask me what i know about mixing up voices and run-on sentences too.