ROAD KILL

Along the road to eternity one meets all sorts of fellow travelers.  Some keep in step along the entire way, some whizz through, leaving indelible memories behind; some fall out of step, fall behind, and are lost, some catch back up after a while. Some fellow travelers are destined to become road kill.

Yes, indeed, when I accidentally kill a relationship it is very like road kill. You know, when one day you are totally immersed in each other’s life (so  I think) and the next day, poof, gone, dead as a doornail friendship.  No explanations.  

 I never forget it.  It makes me worried about every other relationship.  I lose my choice making confidence.  I mourn every time I think about it.  Did I run over your feelings accidentally or did you jump in front of the oncoming destruction.  Please just tell me what happened!

I like to think I am a caring, compassionate, loyal person; someone you would like to be a friend with. I have character flaws that might be off-putting.  One being:  I don’t trust easily, because for a while abandonment was my middle name.  Death, divorce, disloyalty have all left significant scars on my mental landscape. But if I do trust you and I open my heart to you I expect you to be on that eternal road with me for a good long time, because I am loyal.  Disposable is not a word I use as an adjective in front of friend.

On bad days, I pick open those memories.  Am I really such a bad friend?  Why did I think we were friends?  And boy, do I wish I knew the answer. 

Because I miss you,still.

Backroads

The other day started out poorly.  I suppose I was tired, I often am if I don't keep the CPAP mask on all night.  Himself was away on a long business jaunt; I like it less and less to be left behind.  I misplaced keys, I tried to pack too much in to the morning; just dumb shoot-myself-in-the-foot things I do.

Later in the day I was driving home from an appointment.  I chose the longer but more scenic route.  The radio was playing some song that I was dancing to in my head.  One thought lead to another and I realized  how often I took the back road, the more scenic route in life. It takes longer to get to the destination, it is not as direct, nor efficient.  Sometimes the back road is dark, lonely, and scary.  It often is not the way people expect.

But I get where I need to be eventually, and usually have a great story to tell as well.

Like dancing in my head.  I do it often. I do it well.  Sometimes I skate too.  I wanted to dance when I was a girl. According to "them", I was too tall; I was  large boned.  I was not a prima ballerina type.  To my parents, dancing was ballet, period.  I guess it never occurred to "them" that my not so Margot Fonteyn physique did not disqualify me from other forms of dance.  Later in life, the backroads took me to ethnic dance, and ballroom, and theatre dance. I was pretty good after all.

But now I am traveling autumn roads, and  my time and season for dance is over.   So I dance in my head.  Oh, how I dance! I hardly recognize the confident, strong, free woman who dances on the stage of my mind.
But as I drove on that frosty afternoon backroad, I smiled.

Backroads are worth traveling.