There are about a thousand things I’d like to say to my mother. My wants for her are so cliche as to seem prosaic, but not to have them is to see how invaluable they are. I am a pod. A singular entity. We use our antennae to feel each other out, never venturing too far into the wild landscape of emotional depth. It is a choice, a blanket of safety. It is why it is so hard to call sometimes, and navel-gazing isn’t the same as self-awareness.
There is a stillness here now. The dust has settled. There is such a great amount of wide open s p a c e. You could lose yourself in possibility.
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meglevinson posted this
