the rolling hills and willow trees of carolina wait for me
Last night in the health center, I was trying to explain how my situation felt. I said it's like I'm a delicious jar of peaches; the best peaches, home grown and canned by your mother, and you know they'll be the best damn peaches you've ever tasted. Instead of eating those peaches and enjoying them, you leave them on a shelf, and save them for a special occasion; or when you're blue, or when you just feel the time is right for the perfect treat. I feel like I've been put on the shelf; like everyone has confirmed I would be great, but they want to save me for later rather than enjoying me now.
Or maybe like a favourite book that you've read and loved. You close the book reluctantly after reading the last page, with a lump in your throat because you're sad to be done reading it. you open up to the middle, smell the pages, and close the book again and hold it to your chest. You say, "I'll read that again someday," and then put it on the shelf to forget about for a month, a year, many years. From time to time you're reminded of the plot, the characters, and smile like it's a memory of a warm summer day. Eventually, you say, you'll read the book again when the time is right.
Despite feeling like a well loved book, or a fine wine, or jar of peaches; I feel thankful that I have the best friend that I do, and thankful that I have many friends that I can depend on, and that I know that they love me. If I date Arnie or not, he will be my best friend and I will love him always. And if Matt and I ever happen, well, I know I can trust him to stay my friend too. So I'll be content in sitting on that shelf, waiting, and knowing that when someone takes me down, dusts me off, and gives me a shot; that they'll smile.
Or maybe like a favourite book that you've read and loved. You close the book reluctantly after reading the last page, with a lump in your throat because you're sad to be done reading it. you open up to the middle, smell the pages, and close the book again and hold it to your chest. You say, "I'll read that again someday," and then put it on the shelf to forget about for a month, a year, many years. From time to time you're reminded of the plot, the characters, and smile like it's a memory of a warm summer day. Eventually, you say, you'll read the book again when the time is right.
Despite feeling like a well loved book, or a fine wine, or jar of peaches; I feel thankful that I have the best friend that I do, and thankful that I have many friends that I can depend on, and that I know that they love me. If I date Arnie or not, he will be my best friend and I will love him always. And if Matt and I ever happen, well, I know I can trust him to stay my friend too. So I'll be content in sitting on that shelf, waiting, and knowing that when someone takes me down, dusts me off, and gives me a shot; that they'll smile.