Fall afternoon on Massachusetts Street

8 Nov


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.


It didn’t take very long did it?

The gap between there and here
never seemed more apparent than
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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