The streets shimmered in neon waves, and I wore borrowed clothes and a strange golden boldness.
Summer’s heat lingered long in the air, yet we still wandered in search of something unnamed.
In a dark bar, last call, slow music played, and on a whim we approached the uneven floor.
Two friends, we were warmed by the day, drunk on each other, dancing together, sway by sway, closer and closer.
That was the night everything changed.
Prompt by Patricia
We parted with enmity
And now he is gone,
Left without a kiss,
And sailed off at dawn.
I shall write him a letter,
Include a photograph too,
And stuff them in a bottle,
Toss them in waves of blue.
As he sails round the globe,
My love note behind him,
Fate may have to intervene,
For this message to find him.
My father was never lost; he just took the scenic routes. This infuriated my mother, who had created plans and made motel reservations. She would read the road map while Dad meandered along a new route in a strange state until she got a headache. Eventually, he’d get to where we were supposed to be, accompanied by a lot of shouting, his good mood disappeared and all of us starving. Luckily, we never had to sleep in the car.
In the meantime, I tuned my parents out by curling up in the back seat with books, immersing myself in new worlds with new characters. I let the scenery whoosh by my window unobserved. I wanted to escape into my mind, into a fantasy land where people weren’t screaming over maps and whether we were lost.
I was lost in a kaleidoscope of fiction. Sometimes the newly spun world was a doggie story and later they became mysteries. In my teen years, I got hooked on romance novels. Eventually, I began to wonder if I could create my own worlds of words, spin my own colorful tales for others to lose themselves in. It all began during those stressful driving “vacations.”
50-Word Thursday (sets of 50)
Three Things Challenge
Quote from Goodreads.
This is undeniably true; only a psychopath could witness certain kinds of horrors and stay serene and unaffected. I also believe that depression should be considered a normal reaction to experiencing profound grief. Why do we have to think of it as an illness? Whether medication is necessary or desirable is a separate topic. I’m only talking about the way we think about dark and prolonged sadness.
People don’t want to know. They want to see the phony smile. They want the bland “good” in reply to their meaningless “how ya doing?” They put artificial time limits on other people’s grief or heartbreak. A year is “long enough” to mourn, or you can’t be that upset over him ~ you only went on a handful of dates! Oh. My mistake. I’ll just take my ball of sad and go home.
Anyway. I think it’s good to remember that people can have different reactions to the same situation. We aren’t all carved from a monolithic mind.
‘Sup peeps? It’s supposed to rain here today, which is good. We can always use rain in SoCal. Some friends are planning a local hike and I hope they won’t be disappointed if they get rained out. Either way, we’re still meeting for lunch, which is the important thing.
Bailing on a hike years ago cost me a friendship. There’s a bit of gossip for ya. No biggie, since I’m not naming names. Yep, I went on one hike, did okay, confirmed the next one, and then I bailed. I’m just not good with hiking. I have a bad back and migraines that get triggered by whatever. Chronic pain sufferers can probably understand why doing okay on one didn’t mean I felt confident to do another; it felt more like, hmm, good, let’s stop here. So, I changed my mind, nixed the outing, and got jettisoned from the person’s life. Hey, it happens.
Not gonna deny it hurt though. I’ve been tossed aside for other reasons from other relationships over the decades and I’ve found it’s best to accept the feelings of loss, sadness, anger, etc., rather than pretending I don’t care. Pretense haunts you later, is my philosophy.
I pretend a lot though, in daily interactions, to get along and not make a fuss. I’m a nice person, much nicer than I seem here. Most of the time. I can separate my feelings of perpetual outrage about politics and “how things are” from my need to just make it through the damn day. Sometimes this makes me feel like a fraud, but we can’t spend all day confronting everyone about everything. I think we all fake it somewhat, depending upon how much we have to deal with other people. That’s different from denying your feelings to yourself however.
Every so often I make a nice cup of tea and have a long chat with myself to make sure we’re in sync about where we stand on All The Things. I highly recommend it.
Posted in Noodling, Relationships, Writing
Tagged exercise, migraines, navel glazing, peeps, philosophy, politics, psychology, retro, SOCS
Fandango has posed another one of his provocative questions:
“When was the last time you did something for the very first time? What was it that you did?”
In June of 2018, I became a grandma for the very first time… and so far it’s the last time I’ve grandma’d, but it’s only been 7 months. ❤️
Now, technically I didn’t do anything but wait, but that’s something. Plus I nagged a lot, partially planned the baby shower, and generally made a nuisance of myself. 😂
For the record, I enjoy being a grandma and would be happy to grandma again, in the near or far future, whenever the opp presents itself. 👍🏻