Longing

Longing. She eats and drinks and breathes and sleeps with longing. It rubs ‘round her legs, jumps on her chest and purrs, she strokes its silky smiling cheeks and sometimes she wets its fur with her tears.

            Longing lies. It says You will have, it says it’s the path, longing says it will lead her to the promised land, but she won’t, it’s not, it never will. All lies, lies and seduction.

            And she lies down at night to dream of the man she can’t have, child she doesn’t have, years lost waiting for what never came, and she curls up to sleep with her longing, wraps her arms around it, holds it tight like a man, but longing doesn’t scare her like a man ‘cause she knows she can have longing, she can always have longing, longing will stay and never leave her.

            She thought the man, the family, the life they call Settling Down would fall on her from the sky, and she spent years trying to dodge it only to succeed, and regret that she did.

            And she photographs weddings.

            Loads film in the camera, camera in a bag, bag in her car and she drives to the lovely place they chose. Carries her camera through their celebration aiming her lens at their love, their joy, their happy ending. They kiss and smile, walk down an aisle, drink wine, eat cake and they dance. She loves them, calms them, honors and serves them. Then locks it all safe in a can of film and it’s frozen in small square frames. Square frames roll into the round can and the smooth round can goes in the lumpy camera bag and she lifts the hatch, loads it back in her car and she drives away. Safe.

            Safe. They are married and she is not. Sometimes she cries in her loaded car on the road to her empty house, she turns on old swing music and wishes for someone to dance with.

            She does dance sometimes, goes to the ball and waltzes, head thrown back, sparkling eyes, twirling skirts. She dances and laughs and leans back in their arms, but the music stops and she stops. She leaves singing, filled with music and romance. She sees no dirty socks or unbrushed teeth, no unwashed dishes. She hears no snoring.

            A bag of heated flax seeds warms her feet and Longing curls by her chest and purrs, lays its paw on her cheek. Soft pillow cradles her head and she sinks into sleep, safe.