Friday, March 19, 2010

the pleasure of being alone

"he found something in paris which is what i was hoping he would find," she tells me.
"what's that?"
"the pleasure of being alone"
i have always seen her as my definition of a woman.
she is strong, intelligent, and unflinching in the choices she has made-
knowing that she may not have always made the right one, but when the time came to make a call, she had the courage to do it
she has the kind of beauty i hope to possess when i am a mother and then a grandmother
she is meddling in a way i wish i had some meddling in my life
"do you ever miss LA?"
"of course...but i'm glad i'm here"
she laughs with an understanding that always makes me feel like i really could say anything in front of her
she always gives me a hug and a kiss
even though i'm not that kind of girl
i like it when they come from her
she tells me about her love
the one who wouldn't let her get away
the true love of her life
and how much energy she expended trying to get rid of him
and it makes me smile.
she really does know everything.
though i know a few people who might disagree.
i see her the same way my cousin breanne sees my father.
"just got out of the hospital" she writes. "heard you called." she continues.
 "your father is great!" she finishes.
and i smile and nod to myself. yes he is great, so fucking great. so great that it has always been overwhelmingly difficult to tell him when i'm upset with him.
i wish that for a moment we could all see the people closest to us through a clear window.
one that hasn't been rained on or shit on or broken
and see the person we love for what they truly are-
someone who loves us no matter what window they are looking through.
or perhaps just one that is open.

1 comment:

Carmen said...

this is a nice one