Страх

Back then, I could tell myself he was off liberating Croatia. Now, my tears fill my heart as I know that his dying day came before my own.

It’s a strange life I live and I feel it no more strongly than when I do common tasks- I love my Dyson like nothing else but I clean with homemade citric vinegar. I trust my great grandmother infinitely more than the mass media. I’m stuck between a desire to be drinking coffee in Paris while writing a novel and a house full of jars waiting to be filled with homemade pickles that taste like summers past. Aging is wearing on me- still younger than I’d like and more confused than I hoped to be. Houses are expensive you know. But I’m lucky I guess because I don’t owe a dime for college or my car, but my friends that owe $90,000? They are living rent free and drinking cosmos while I’m shopping the Aldi sale papers hoping that one day I’ll be able to pay a down payment. Sometimes it feels that doing right sets you seventeen steps behind. In my heart, I go back to the little girl I once was sitting in the little blue plastic chairs in the basement of my church hearing the age old adage that of course doing right is always better for you in the end but some days don’t feel like it. I’m not complaining- I like my debt and cosmo free life but I’d like a house someday. The paradox of life feels like an explosion in my stomach- wringing my hands and walking laps just trying to reconcile and trust all that I am, right now in this moment, all that I have been all these years, and all that I am being made to be. I wish someone could explain how I can be so old fashioned and yet so modern- but the other days? I’m so glad no one can define it, not even me. There’s a lot in my soul, but it settles just right- eventually.