It doesn't matter how they ended up here.
Both in the literal and figurative sense.
She stopped asking that question because
she knew what she called in and how she
found herself inside of these situations.
Her intuition is pretty good, but her hindsight is spot on.
She asks him the question. He pulls away.
It was a reaction she didn't expect. And she says so.
It wasn't a reaction, he got a cramp in his back.
They laugh because she is almost in tears and he is almost 50
and this is where they have ended up.
In a hotel room they water months of parched space between
without the physical dance. They answer the questions.
They make amends. They rise from the drylands in this
luxurious room, in downtown Manhattan, with a
conversation that spans three years worth of time
in only one night.
She doesn't ask anymore.
While she struggles with what her physical body looks like
she has learned to love every nook, cranny, and cell
of her being.
Will it matter? Who will it matter to?
Can she pull off body hugging lycra to go with
the new spring sandals that her manicured feet
slip right into.
Tell me, when she takes her last breath,
will she worry about how she looked on the night she shared cocktails
with strangers in a private room, while standing next to
the man she has loved since she was 16 years old?
She taps into the stories she told her creative sensual tribe.
She taps into her soul and asks for her truest self to come forth.
She is inside the evolution that will change, challenge, and ground her.
This is where she belongs in this moment.
*Stories are what feed me. I will continue to write here, choosing instead to create a brand new photography web home. I am still very much vibing with She Told Stories. I needed time to soak that in.