I’m hopeful and reminiscing. In his childhood bedroom. By the white noise of a generic white fan. Kissed only by natural light and surrounded by our children’s toys. With Trader Joe’s Quiches and Mango Pompelini. I remember the day I snuck up alone. 13 years old, I found his wallet by his bed. I cautiously opened it to find a green 7 uno card and a sketch I had made on a napkin weeks prior. Abandoned by my plate. The chapters to come were worthwhile. Beautiful and wild. And over, now.
I still think of you, Jane Doe. I hope you’re okay. At least as okay as me. Surrounded by people you love and people who love you. Maybe you’re on an upswing of life! Maybe you’re at a low point and I hope you feel me sending you SO much love, if that’s the case. I wish we were together. I know some day you’ll find me or I’ll find you. Maybe we’ve already met. Maybe next Thanksgiving, love. Hang in there. I pray you find immeasurable pleasure and comfort in what surrounds you, no matter the circumstances.
I’m okay today. I have the freedom and means to write and publish. I have mango pompelini and my favorite holiday treats. I’m eating without guilt and choosing pleasure in salts and sweets. I couldn’t bring myself to buy Grapefruit Pompelini yesterday. I stood in the aisle after one of my strongest Vinyasa classes yet, holding the bottle thinking of you, clammy in post work out sweat and endorphins…before I put it back. Not without you, today. Today, it’s a Mango kind of day. Strange. Not my favorite but still comforting. I want to miss you.
I’m not home but I’m accepted. My children are happy and growing. We are in a love bubble today as we do sticker books and decorate turkey and fall leaf sugar cookies.
I know the year to come will be a whirlwind of change. I step cautiously and courageously forward. Curious what flavor of pompelini I’ll be buying next year…I know that tiny bit of information will reveal so much. I hope I’m holding your hand when I choose.
Maybe I’ll have a new home, a new job. Maybe The Studio will be booming and maybe it will be comfortably and beautifully the same. I’ll read 12 more books and see 2 new states. My tattoo will be complete with vibrant colors and detail. I’ll have new piercings and no longer be living out of a suitcase….my state for the last 4 years.
I’m strong, Jane Doe. Stronger than I’ve ever been.
There’s a girl, Jane Doe. She’s beautiful and kind. She’s gentle and fierce. She has long brown hair and a steady touch. She….stuns me with her acceptance, patience, and quickly blooming love. I think I trust her. I’m learning its okay to trust people who might still change their minds. I’m learning it’s possible to be scared and comfortable at the same time. Maybe you’re her. Maybe you’ll meet her. I find beauty in not knowing. I hold space for all possibilities of you.
Today, sitting here, so clearly on my in between, I’m patient. I’m joyful. I’m healthy. I’m….okay. The kids are thriving, I’m surviving, and I hope you think of me. I’m spending my days working at the bagel shop, worrying about James’ jumping spiders getting enough to eat, trying to get into a reliable car, and inching my way towards financial independence.
Kiss kiss, darling. Perhaps I’ll meet you in the middle.