Saturday, February 10, 2024

The Look

I noticed the way you looked at me by the door when you finished playing your tape, the tape you've played numerous times before. I figure you're getting old, too, and can't recall telling the stories.

There all meaningless, really. I mean, when you think about it, it's just proof we're becoming our parents and that we have nothing interesting going on.

I cringe and then I see that look. I wake up from my sleep and feel alive again. Then I remember I'm older, too, and there's no where to play. The sandbox is gone. The corner store. The school by the park. It's all gone except for this valley in my mind.

I almost don't allow myself to go there. But, why shouldn't I? This place is filled with joy and love. It's my sanctuary. I can let whomever I want to come inside. 

So I imagine myself with sword in hand, dragging it across a field as I contemplate what to do next. You see, there's nothing to do except to rest my head against the lush green grass. 

Then I take my clothes off and rest my head again against the lush green grass. My sword is close by. I never part with it. 

It occurs to me how different I must look to you. You have to know I'm not like the others. You must know. Do you know?

I'll never be that woman, that typical and stereotypical woman who needs a man to prove to her she's wanted by showering her with expensive gifts. 

I'll never be that power hungry woman either who has to prove to others she's smart and worthy of all that money. Or who has to keep herself so busy in order to tell herself she has a purpose.

I was never that girl who made it an aim to be mother, either. Or to be a stay at home mom while my husband brought home the put food on the table and for me to get my nails done...and hair....and eventually, botox for myself and my daughters. I also dreaded the thought I might have a son grow up to become a typical man. 

That look...tell me about that look. Are you a typical man when your wife's not looking? We're not children anymore, are we? It's their turn now to dream and choose. And to make mistakes and fall short.

It's time to do away with earth bound matters, those things that are dense and not capable of absorbing light.

I float in the clouds, sweetheart, right by heaven's door. There's nothing on this plane that can feed this longing.

No comments: