I can’t go back to the beginning because nothing in the past is ever the full truth. When I look back from this place where I am now, in the middle of so much certainty, I clearly remember being very focused on pain- an uncommon kind of pain.
You know. The kind of pain where you aren’t even aware it exists until someone asks a question that shifts the paradigm of the existence you’ve lived for the last decade.
It’s an awareness kind of pain.
It’s the kind of pain that exists with a story.
It’s the kind you remember when you are old. And it turns you into the kind of person who has a history, has character, has lessons.
It’s the kind that gives you the opportunity to share an honest answer when some young thing interviews you and you are that old woman who says with a fist raised, Yes! I admit I have regrets.
And the first regret is that you didn’t realize you needed that pain when you were cow-eyed and all swooning to the traditions of walking down the aisle, when you had visions of making babies who would carry your husband’s name into the future.
You know, the kind of pain that wakes you up and makes you start living in the present, for the present, before time slips away.
She read it again and changed the word Pain to Kissing…. then to Love…then to Duty…then to…