Morning comes around 365 days, year after year. You'll be surprised to find that regardless of sun, rain, sleet, or snow, that you're likely to have a heavy heart more days that you'd think is fair. It matters not what the cause, only that you'll say to yourself, I can't do it. I can't face the day, the gloom, the ache, the hill.
The electric bill is higher than your bank balance,
Your best friend is getting married
The one before her is having her second baby,
And you? You're still working on fame,
Fortune, and repairing your fragile ego.
You worry that you'll drown in the puddle
of tears you cry nightly into your pillow.
You've forgotten what put the need in you
For the lanky man lying alongside your
Curvy frame in a bed build for two, you'll whisper
You don’t' love me
But you like me
I love you
But I don't like you
You tell me to stay
But you push me away
I knock on your door
But pray you're dead on the floor
You laugh, you'll cry. You'll yell
I can't do it. You'll look to the heavens
At the woman in the mirror, who has your eyes
But not your hips, you'll ask, who is she?
Is that my ass? What happened to size perfect?
You'll howl at the moon, you'll wallow, you'll crack open a bottle of Jack Daniels, and you'll even call home but pride will stop you short of groveling. And when Mom asks, "How's it going, baby girl?" You'll hesitate a second too long, and with all your will, you'll choke back the tears with the panic near boiling, and you'll summon a strength you not was there, and promise her that life, this life, the very one that you handmade, is everything you ever wanted. You'll say to yourself, I can't do it, can't tell her the truth, can't tell her the nights are too long, that your heart is too fragile. You'll finally understand what it means to be grown up, and hate it because it's not what you imagined, because it's fallen short of your dreams, and scream, I can't do it.
You say to yourself, I can't do this anymore,
Live my life according to plan
I can't find myself inside all the haze
I can't carry the weight of a world
That was never my burden, it's time to burn
The blueprints, the ones I carefully crafted
So long ago. You'll remember all that you
Knew, that life isn't dot-to-dot, it's
Not highways, department stores, it's
Not Cover Girl perfect, Cosmo
Size 0, it’s not men or boys, or girls,
It’s not love, or money, it's not in a book.
You'll howl to the moon and cry out in joy as you scream, I can't do it this WAY anymore. And when the sun rises tomorrow, in rain, snow, sun, and even sleet, your heart will be light, your bed built for two, now minus one. You'll marvel that your pillow is dry.
The life, your life, the one you defined is yours to create, define, redefine, destroy, rebuild. You'll get angry because you had forgotten that nothing you imagine is limited unless you limit it. You'll pour a glass of wine then give a nod to your old life and mouth good riddance and toast the day, and marvel once again at mystery of life.
A lesson for my daughter. If you had one to share, that I could share with my girl, what would it be?