walking in the valley

"It's what I always wanted," she said, as we walked through her garden. She pointed at each row and specified each plant. I was awake for every second of it. I mean, I haven't slept all week, but what I somehow grew up and realized via God and God's love, and the women who teach me things when I show up in myself in various warehouses or workplaces, was that I was legitimately happy for her, in her moment of having everything I ever wanted.

And I'm not used to that.

But what I do know, is that I like the chase. I like to be alive for that. To not know what is coming next is the greatest part of being alive? To walk out your front door with a credit card is an unlimited possibility here in America? But you may want to get it a more difficult way than that. With many breaks in-between to stop and look out of windows or wait for a tram, or reply to an email, to talk to a man in salmon-colored shorts, or to secede from a nation.

This life is long; you stare at the fruit on the tree to try to make it grow faster.
And then while you wait, you buy fruit from a grocer.
And the grocer is trying to know his purpose too.
Summer skin.
Your hair will keep growing. People you don't know will die and leave their bodies.
The fruit might keep growing. And one day it will either fail to sustain, or it will blossom into something you can cook into a pastry, or consumer quickly in an afternoon.

I love you.
I will love you.
I have loved you.

Simple conjugation and history.