"I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being."
It’s amazing how you can be in a place for two and a half months, leave for 11, and realize when you come back for an all-too-short 36 hours that “home” means something new, now.
The strange disconnect that’s been growing over the past year - maybe it isn’t some horrific aging process. Maybe it isn’t even a sign of friendships ending. Maybe I’m homesick.
We picked up seemingly right where we left off at the end of last summer, after bleary-eyed hugs and rushed goodbyes in the middle of a workday. I remember standing on my front porch after, watching the endless torrent of rain, and realizing by sunrise the next morning, it wouldn’t be my porch anymore.
Lunches at my day job are hurried affairs under fluorescent lighting, dry cereal spooned into my mouth in one hand while still typing up work orders with the other. For two glorious meals this week, lunch was loud and silly and full.
In a day-long interview, they still took the time to ensure I could visit my favorite resident. I fed her craisins and reminded her of her perfection.
That place is everything I’m hoping for. Just four more days of nail-biting and daydreaming.
I’m really glad my brain is channeling whatever excitement and nervousness I feel about this interview into its usual stew of considering very deeply all the idiotic, selfish, and shitty things I’ve done, and coming up with an itemized list of why everyone hates me.
I feel stupidly jealous of the coked-up woman rambling on at length Friday night about how she’s never felt depressed - she’s felt, like, sad sometimes for like, half a day - but never really knows what to say to someone who’s deeply, seriously depressed. It must be nice, to be wasted, in love, and happy all the time.
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
“Please—tame me!” he said.
“I want to, very much,” the little prince replied. “But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand.”
“One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me…”
“What must I do, to tame you?” asked the little prince.
“You must be very patient,” replied the fox. “First you will sit down at a little distance from me—like that—in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day…”