Now this is interesting.

Just when I thought I'd moved past it - in all my enlightened weltanschauung - it comes back and says hello. And as much as I fight it, I must confess, there is something altogether effortless about going back. Stumbling, bumbling, fumbling into it.

I thought it was a diamond. Really, what else would be there? Except that it wasn't accompanied by a pronouncement and congratulations. And that felt funny, and a little numb.

Then it was gone. And that felt like maybe.

It could be back tomorrow. Who knows?

*****

I was at Rich's house on Saturday night watching the football games and his sister was there doing something on the computer, Facebook, maybe, and I thought about my sister and wondered what she was doing on that Saturday night and hoping that she wasn't home and hoping that she was out having fun and I thought

*****

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, "What will I be?
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?"
Here's what she said to me:

*****

As I've gotten older, I find myself less interesting and less interested. Sometimes when I'm talking to people, I feel a little guilty about that, but not enough to try to be more and more.

But there's no need to fake interest. If it's there, it's undeniable. I won't need to worry if it will be back tomorrow and I won't need to ask what lies ahead.