Somewhere you only go after ten or think of going after ten o’clock at night.
It’s ten and I am crawling into bed.
It’s ten and the lights go out.
It’s ten and I drift to sleep.
Too bad I can’t just leave now.
It’s one and my phone is vibrating in my hand.
It’s one and I pull myself awake.
It’s one and I slip into shoes and a light coat.
I grab my keys and go.
It’s warm as I exit the house and lock it behind me.
It’s warm as I get in my car.
It’s warm as I arrive.
The trees all glow around me.
It’s content to be surrounded by darkness.
It’s content to be alone in the world.
It’s content to be myself with no judges.
I close my eyes and breathe.
It’s surprising the freshness of the air.
It’s surprising the ability to be so close.
It’s surprising the warmth with no sun.
Finally I can think.
It’s an hour to relax.
It’s an hour I can actually let it all go.
It’s an hour that happens once a week.
There’s nothing better than the edge of a cliff to contemplate your importance.
Something that makes you feel chained.
She is fourteen! FOURTEEN! I am going to be twenty in less than a month and I am not even sexually active yet. FOURTEEN! We never got along. Something has to change if we want to keep her home. Our feeble efforts to make peace from three verses eight on seem as weak as a dry twig. The truth is it is not that hard. But my care for children and other people seems to be the reason I can accomplish this task of changing my opinion. It is not for her sake I try and that is the key. FOURTEEN! She has wanted acceptance for so long whatever looks like it she takes. It’s how she got in this mess, after all. I am just taking it a day at a time, waiting for the moment she uses this to her advantage. Fourteen-year-olds bore easily. It is no wonder we have been able to make her laugh so hard she pees on an increasing rate. Fourteen and we don’t know the father. Fourteen and she lost the begging of her life. Fourteen and the rest of us have to change our own to make up for the qualities she is not yet old enough to have. Fourteen and I no longer have the strength to leave the house for my mother will fall to pieces. Surprisingly my mother is doing worse than my father. FOURTEEN! I will give it a year and see if my house can stand not having me around or if the chaos will delay my leaving even more. FOURTEEN! I am going to be twenty in less than a month and I am not even sexually active yet. We need to keep her wandering soul home.
