One morning, I blinked and reality wasn’t any longer. “Fourteen days,” I was told. An early Spring break…I couldn’t be mad about that. But just a little over the due Spring break and we’d all be back. Would it be like going back to normal? I was sure of that.
Looking at a room full of confused little gazes and wobbly little hands waving on their way out, I wondered, too, “Is this how we say goodbye?”
I missed them not. Sleeping in for days, it was the life.
Mid-March led the way. Waking up alone every day soon made no sense. And so was a new calendar that had no beginning and no end. Reaching for absence that didn’t want to be present turned into discontent. The world kept spinning, but there was no change…
Or was it?
Lost business, lost hope, lost…friends. Drastic change. Tensions were high. I didn’t understand why. Suddenly, it was July. And again I wondered, “Is this how we say goodbye?”
A year went by and just like that, March. My head I hold up high, but my spine is scarred. Still learning not to live by expectations, but can’t help but wonder, “Was I not worth a conversation?”
What kind of person couldn’t see the intentions in my glistening eyes in the depth of the night? Perhaps the problem is, not everybody can read poetry; perhaps, we should use our words instead of coquetry.
Learning is an ongoing process. And it’s in the same school of life that I realize those wobbly little arms can be warmer than all the wrong things I missed when it was March.
