Caterpillar
It was the third time I’d ran by that church before I realized where and when I’d seen it first…..or last.
It was her wedding; a great day for her and her love of five years. I remember being so happy for her. I remember obliging the other bride’s maids when they picked out the dresses. Tight and strapless, I looked like a caterpillar. At that time, my body wasn’t nearly in the shape it is now. At that time I wouldn’t have been able to run if I were being chased. But now look at me. Running by said church at full speed, sweat stinging my eyes, lungs rasping and gasping for the thick air to sate my exertion. It was a beautiful start to their marriage. Her dress was large and heavy, a symbol of her love for him. The ceremony was longer than the reception, for they couldn’t wait to be alone at last with four bottles of the finest champagne their parents could afford.
A twinge of sadness crept in as I thought of my own marriage, and the way things have changed. How her step father had told my soon to be ex-husband, “She’s a wild one, that one. Surprised you could catch her.” What an ass, I thought. But, he was right. I AM WILD. At least the kind of wild that can’t be caged by controlling stubborn conformists who like to have their cake and fuck it, too.
As I trot on and feel the July rain sting my skin with a cool promise of a reprise from the heat, I remember how much sadness I’d experienced with him than without him. Sure it’s hard to sleep sometimes, alone in this bed we picked out together. Sure I miss my house, my dog, and my friends. But, now I don’t have to worry about pleasing anyone else but me. I rarely concern myself with who I must inform of my every move. When and where I want to go and whom I see or meet when I get there are all my concerns and only my concerns. There is a certain kind of wild freedom that I relish in these facts.
There is no going back from this place. Only forward motion is prohibited. I cannot fathom the thought of returning to that life and the miserable little caterpillar I was within it. For years I felt as if I were suffocating. I felt a deep and undeniable emptiness inside that I couldn’t fill. No, it wasn’t entirely his fault, though he took every advantage an insecure leech could afford without being too obvious. It was my fault. I feel in love with the thought of being like everyone else. I lusted after a life that was never for me to live. And finally, I wanted most of all to not be alone with myself. Lost as I was, the last thing I wanted was to find myself completely and utterly alone with only my past to look at. I wanted a future, but I didn’t know what kind of future I wanted.
It was her wedding; a great day for her and her love of five years. I remember being so happy for her. I remember obliging the other bride’s maids when they picked out the dresses. Tight and strapless, I looked like a caterpillar. At that time, my body wasn’t nearly in the shape it is now. At that time I wouldn’t have been able to run if I were being chased. But now look at me. Running by said church at full speed, sweat stinging my eyes, lungs rasping and gasping for the thick air to sate my exertion. It was a beautiful start to their marriage. Her dress was large and heavy, a symbol of her love for him. The ceremony was longer than the reception, for they couldn’t wait to be alone at last with four bottles of the finest champagne their parents could afford.
A twinge of sadness crept in as I thought of my own marriage, and the way things have changed. How her step father had told my soon to be ex-husband, “She’s a wild one, that one. Surprised you could catch her.” What an ass, I thought. But, he was right. I AM WILD. At least the kind of wild that can’t be caged by controlling stubborn conformists who like to have their cake and fuck it, too.
As I trot on and feel the July rain sting my skin with a cool promise of a reprise from the heat, I remember how much sadness I’d experienced with him than without him. Sure it’s hard to sleep sometimes, alone in this bed we picked out together. Sure I miss my house, my dog, and my friends. But, now I don’t have to worry about pleasing anyone else but me. I rarely concern myself with who I must inform of my every move. When and where I want to go and whom I see or meet when I get there are all my concerns and only my concerns. There is a certain kind of wild freedom that I relish in these facts.
There is no going back from this place. Only forward motion is prohibited. I cannot fathom the thought of returning to that life and the miserable little caterpillar I was within it. For years I felt as if I were suffocating. I felt a deep and undeniable emptiness inside that I couldn’t fill. No, it wasn’t entirely his fault, though he took every advantage an insecure leech could afford without being too obvious. It was my fault. I feel in love with the thought of being like everyone else. I lusted after a life that was never for me to live. And finally, I wanted most of all to not be alone with myself. Lost as I was, the last thing I wanted was to find myself completely and utterly alone with only my past to look at. I wanted a future, but I didn’t know what kind of future I wanted.