I know my vision is impaired and cannot be trusted with even the simplest tasks, much less dating. Not that Ive come within talon distance of a man.
A heart can stop beating for a while, one can still live.
How can I grieve what is still in motion?” I ask her. “Shoes are still dropping all over the place. Im not kidding,” I say. “Its Normandy out there.
I remember one desolate Sunday night, wondering: Is this how Im going to spend the rest of my life? Marrid to someone who is perpetually distracted and somewhat wistful, as though a marvelous party is going on in the next room, which but for me he could be attending?
Just know that it is impossible to feel joy while you are feeling cynicism. It is like wearing tight shoes and trying to mambo.
I’ve felt basically lucky ever since, almost every day of my life. That’s something else love should make you feel. It should make you fell fortunate.
It will be made clear to you in a stray gesture, the line of a throat. Something in the hands. There may or may not be any music playing. But there will be a certain velocity of the spirit, a sensation of dropping through clear space unimpeded, and you think, This is the one. I found you.
I think: I would like to take N back to a story right now, like a rake.
I would say, “Oh, this rake is uneven. Do you have any where the tines go straight across?”
I would like to do a straight exchange.
But there are things that cannot be returned. Errant husbands are one of them. Wives are not. Wives can be exchanged; I have always known this.
Flannel shirts should be outlawed for ex husbands; I realize this now. Flannel shirts are to women what crotchless panties are to men.
I should have known then it wasnt nothing, as he called it. But I was eight months pregnant. No sense closing the barn door now, or so I thought. I swallowed the nothing, straightaway after the usual tears and denial.
I travel back in time, falling back into what I know for certain, the historical data I cling to in order to not go mad, not assume I made a suicidal and well-informed error in marrying this man.