I tried to explain. How I’d be literally pirating off the radio. I’d always miss the first few bars as I dove for my boom box, trying to catch as much of The Song as my little thirteen-year-old heart possibly could. This was how we did it in Iowa in the late ‘80s. You had to WORK to express your infatuation.
Tonight, my husband is at soccer and my daughter is in GA at an international DECA contest, and I’m very, very proud, and I’ve also got control of a way better sound system and my Spotify throwbacks.
I just want you to know who I am.
I lit all the candles, girl, even the three-wicks. Screw it, the world nearly ended in 2020. Let your Bath & Body Works coupons expire for once.
Nothing compares to you.
Part of me wants to stay here, alone, just with myself a little longer. I forgot what it’s like to hang out with me after twenty years of marriage and nineteen years of mothering.
Tall grass waves in the wind.
I will need to reinvent myself.
I will need to write a new book.
I will need to be me, again, independent of other people.
I may transition again. I went from maiden to mother. I may now go from mother to crone.
Can we take back “Crone?”
Hello, darkness, my old friend.
I think we can.
Who’s going to ride your wild horses?
