Fall afternoon on Massachusetts Street

8 Nov

I.

Staring out at the traffic from balcony
with a high sense of uneasiness
that didn’t belong
(why did I feel like Bud Fox?).

I had escaped Oklahoma
and was back home.
It was my birthday.
By all accounts I should have been happy.

I had a good job
nice place to live,
all my friends and loved ones were downstairs
having a good time.

Yet there was this nagging desire to
slip a ring on my finger
slip off somewhere and vanish.

The woman I was interested in
had no idea that she was a dirty little secret
to someone else at the party
with whom I shared a dirty little secret.

Who had I become?
How the fuck did I get here?
This was not what I had in mind for myself
at 34.

II.

It didn’t take very long did it?

The gap between there and here
never seemed more apparent than
today
when it hit me where I was.

Every choice I had made
since that day
when the snowy hill whispered yes
had been correct.

No use in questioning anymore
it was clear I knew best.

If there was somewhere else I was supposed to be
I couldn’t see it.
Had there ever been a time I’d been happier
I couldn’t recall it.

I liked myself so much more today.
I couldn’t run far enough away from that person I was then.
I couldn’t run fast enough to the person I am now.

~Edward Austin Robertson

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