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I stared out at the bees. I wanted a few of them to come sting some sense into me.
Except none of that was true and this fantasy was seconds away from disintegrating in my hands.
She eyed me for a moment and this would’ve been a fine time for lightning to strike, aliens to arrive, the ground to open—whatever.
That left me back in that weird spot where it seemed as though we were shouting at each other from across a canyon, close enough to misunderstand everything yet too far apart to make the jump and close the gap.
People drove me fucking crazy but they also humbled the hell out of me.
There was a time when I believed I was free. I was independent. I was unencumbered by the gridlock of family expectations or tradition. I could invent myself in any way I wished and no one would know any different. The problem with that level of freedom was that it was all sky and no earth. There was no one to prevent me from floating out into space. From being lost and forgotten. The only solution was tying a rope from my waist to someone’s wrist and begging them to hold on to me.
