You'd Be Home Now

by Kathleen Glasgow

Tell me, what is it you plan to do With your one wild and precious life?

The thing about being invisible is, you’d think it would feel light and airy and easy, no pressure, but it doesn’t. It’s the heaviest thing I’ve ever known.

It’s like they’re constantly paring us down, whittling us away so the only part that remains is the one they think is most acceptable.

If you look for grand examples of anything from me, I shall disappoint you.

Maybe people just use different things to fill up the emptiness. Until it becomes less about feeling empty and more about feeding something else.

“We were all young once. And we had our nervous breakdowns and our cancers and our heartbreaks and our anger and we hid them and pretended they didn’t exist and we moved on because everyone said we should. And we’re not one iota better for it. Not one. Let them have this. Just this. Let them be tender, Walter.”

You can’t put your life on hold for somebody else, you know? Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do to make yourself happy. And if you’re not, like, solid with yourself, how can you help somebody else?”

“To appreciate what I have, in the here and now. To not miss it. Because it might be gone, at any moment. And we can’t control that, no matter how hard we try. Whatever the universe is, it’s always got the upper hand and we only have this one chance.”

“I don’t need the aid of a clever man to teach me how to live. I

can find it out for myself.”

Someone I used to know said that’s the problem with adults. They just see kids as they want them to be, what they aren’t, and not as they are.