Ten.Six Hundred & Sixty-Nine
What time is it?
Go little snail, go.
I don’t know what to wear. Jeans? Will I be too hot? Shorts? Will I be too cold. I laugh at myself. It seems like such a silly problem to have. All that really matters is that there will be sun.
In talking to her I realize just how much I’ve actually done since we last met. I did the work of creating new systems of support for myself as I continue to navigate this transition.
The work that is required to plant the seeds. The patience that is required for the harvest.
Things have changed since last year and now there are options. I told him that I decided that I needed to give everyone and everything more than one chance before crossing them or it off the list.
Journal and water and the hammock. I find myself writing about how uncomfortable it feels to talk about being happy. And it’s a weird thing to think—that you can’t share your joy.
He brings me three things. I see two envelopes addressed to the LLC. Which is also me. I have an LLC. The last envelope is full of business cards. Slowly but surely. One foot in front of the other.
I trade the cherry tree for the school field. Seven year-olds practicing baseball. Cool breezes in the shade. Thinking about the way everything changes and nothing stays the same.
It’s a very small world.