I go to a friend’s. The Mother makes pizza from scratch and the Father throws them in the stone hearth he built in their backyard. Others sit around the island counter in the kitchen picking on walnuts and leftover bits of cheese. There are smiles and laughs and soon enough there is fresh baked pizza that we all devour.
At the end of the night I’m presented with a homemade carrot cake that tastes divine. I blow out seven candles.
I turn twenty seven on Sunday.
(Does this mean anything?)
When it’s time to leave I receive hugs from everyone. I am wrapped in embraces. Enriched by warm bodies. By affection.
And these are good times. They calm me for the long ride home. When I sit in silence and stare at the darkness passing by so quickly. At my life streaming by on the highway.
So why is it they feel so weighted on this hazy morning? This bleak and chilly morning?
Where is the sun that shone so brightly yesterday?
Where are all those warm bodies?
Why do I need comfort from someone,
All the time?
These eyelids fight against me. I’m being sabotaged.