My disappointment is a ravine, I step off into air.
My rage is a pillow, screams nestled to sleep inside the feathers.
My grief is a book I can take down from the shelf, put back up again when it’s time to make dinner.
My only time spent outside today was standing in a line to buy vegetables to cook for Thanksgiving. I began listening to a podcast, paused it when I went inside the store because I have to focus. Grocery shopping hasn’t been a relaxed experience for 8 months now. I buy haphazardly: potatoes, cranberries, green beans, heavy cream, onions, shallots, mushrooms…the line at the butcher shop goes all the way down the block one way, the line for covid tests all the way down the block the other way.
I used the clippers to cut back the yellowed hosta leaves. I say aloud to the perennials, see you soon.
I let the girls play Kidz Bop at dinner because Brendan is not home. The music is infuriating. Pia says, scrolling, I wonder if they have Love on Top.
It will not be as good, I say.
No. No way, she agrees.
Once, in the beforetimes, I picked that song to sing at a karaoke evening with a group of women I am now longing to be in an enclosed room with. As the song began, as Bey sang Bring the beat in!, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. Well, I went with it. There was no turning the ship around. As the song progressed, I kept at it, just blindly reaching for each key change, wild like an animal, laughing maniacally because this song shouldn’t even be an option, but wait — this was it. This was my moment. I was failing and flailing and it was in front of everyone and I was alive and laughing and loving that room and all the people inside of it and they were laughing too and we met a few more times, once a month until the holidays came and folks got busy and then everything changed.
Silver Springs is my usual choice.
Can you imagine telling your future self what was in store?
Would you have believed it?
Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me
I know I could’ve loved you but you would not let me
I’ll follow you down ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you
Give me just a chance, you’ll never get away
from the sound of the woman that loves you.