The moon will be full in two days, a super moon for the month of May. I think about the moon when I notice a change in my mood, how I like that at least something is bold enough to fuck with me and also that I get to share something, one thing, with everyone in the world. I like that. When I travel I like to look up at it and think about friends, old lovers or some beautifully minded person I don’t know but will want to and how we share something, and it’s not even on Earth.
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to climb in bed to read or sit on my porch and not give a shit if I got struck by the startling thunder and lightning. I wanted the show. Anyway, I’m not really afraid of magic.
Sitting on my front porch with a milk glass half full of red wine that didn’t taste like anything I’d buy from a bottle that didn’t look like one I’d pick out, I wondered if my children were asleep. And how many years would I do just this very thing. Sit and drink red wine alone on my porch, wrapping my black robe tight and wonder if they were sleeping pretty.
This was it. Their father and I are getting divorced. The first of every other weekend.
The rain sounded so beautiful, so gentle against the thunder and lightning. Those sounds, shifting my mind towards thoughts of romance. The kind I haven’t seen in many years. The dream of kissing someone just as gentle as the rain in the rain but feeling like thunder inside and not worrying in the least if the lightning strikes us.
I sat wishing, wishing so hard my ghost was real, the one I love in my mind. The first one to ever know me. The one who thinks not much else is as important as holding my hand. The ghost who asks me if I’m ok and let’s me smell his neck and linger there. My ghost who would never be dismissive, never throw my heart away.
Listening to the rain, a sound that makes sense in a world designed with no sense. One where I sit alone on a covered porch, in love with a ghost I designed in my head, my thoughts turned to my daughters and my hopes for them.
I hope they never compromise their hearts to fit in, to follow rules and order. That if and when the feeling of love shows up in them that they can have it. Have it without paying a heavy price. That they will never ever have to be pressured or pressure themselves to do the right thing with the wrong person. Or ever consider anyone else, especially me, when they fall in love.
Until true love shows up for me, to which I hope I am not permanently forsaken, I’ll wait, my heart hungry, sharing the moon with the whole world.
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