for the struggle

I feel no pain for you, only sadness.


It's been such a terribly long week, and a longer evening. I think of the time when you told me that sleep would make everything seem better. My intent was not to push you away. And I am sorry that I foreclosed on our limitlessness but really, child, there was more than enough dealing to be done.

Don't taunt me, and don't prejudge my sadness. It is more than a little bit lucky that I've emerged on the other side of growing-up whole, if you look at who I was a year ago, two years ago, three years ago. Emerging strong and dreaming and learning altogether even better. There are things about the young life that I miss -- the endorphines, the competition, the limitless sense of acceleration and pain. Those things yet to be discovered.

When I am quiet and boring and sad, realize that I've waited a long time for the freedom to lie in bed and reread old books for an afternoon, and feel whatever it is that I feel.