"I was, in fact, homesick for wildness, and when I found it I knew how intimately - how resonantly - I belonged there. We are charged with this - all of us. For the human spirit has a primal allegiance to wildness, to really live, to snatch the fruit and suck it, to spill the juice." - Jay Griffiths, Wild: an Elemental Journey

Monday, April 30, 2012

Oh yeah - and then I breathed and everything got better.

The gas fumes sneak
in to the cab of the truck
in the moment he opens the door to get out.
I lean my seat back and cover
my eyes with my arm.
He pumps outside,
his face turned away.

Why-is-this-so-hard?
Why-is-there-tension?
My-stomach-hurts.
I-have-a-headache.
Ugh-I-guess-I'll-check-my-iphone.
Need-something-to-do
To-do
To-do.

I raise my seat and lean
over for my phone on the dash.
Across the street I see
two girls.
Amish.
Throwing a ball
back and forth.
Back.  And.  Forth.
Back.
And.
Forth.

I sneer and snort.
They don't understand.
I check my phone.
Facebook.
Email.
Texts.
Nothing.
Sigh.

The girls are laughing.
I can't hear it, but I can see
their mouths open
their bodies shake with the sound.
Their arms hurl that ball fast
and hard
into the glove.

Back.  And.  Forth.
Back.
And.
Forth.

He is still pumping
gas.
Looks away, jaw tense.
I groan and bury my face 
in my hands.
I-need-some-distraction
I-need-a-drink
I-wish-I-never-quit-smoking
What-about-this-weekend
What-about-the-summer
How-will-we
When-will-it -

I look up. 
Back at the girls.
My hands now in my lap.
I sit up straight.
Breathe in rhythm with their ball.
Back and forth.
Back. And. Forth.
Back.
And. 
Forth.
In and out.
In. And. Out.
In. 
And.
Out.

There is no this weekend.
There is no this summer.
There is now.
There is him.
There is love.
That is all.

I smile.

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