A Hot Tin Roof

What happens when we begin to realize we are walking the final miles. When we see ourselves as a matron; someone's wife, mother, grandmother. No longer the lithesome desire of some young man's fantasy but rather the odd older woman patronized, not eyed.

Along the way, the stuff of life gets in the way, the routine takes over and we forget what we saw when we first looked. We forget the tingle, the rush of air, the impulse to hold our breath. We complain about the lack of attention. The insensitivity. The way he holds his fork.

Sometimes something clicks. The long abandoned need to be seen as a vibrant being allows her to become enthralled by someone younger who catches a fantasy. The tingle once more, can't breath and don't care who is in the way. Sometimes, realizing it is themselves, they try to remove that obstacle as well.

I watched a woman implode over the last few years, her desire for the young man so intense she hummed with it. She did not care that he was a man almost a child, a child man, she knew he would love her. She did not care that she repulsed him. She did not care, nor would she believe he was attracted to men, not women. Not even an old woman. She pursued him with fire eyes and passion. She lost her dignity; she lost her mind. She did not care.

Today. Today I hear from two people the same story. Lives shattered, desires burning, needs driving an impulse to commit self-hurt. Ashes are stirred and the flame becomes a pyre. Nothing survives, the heat sucks the oxygen out of the lives involved. Pick through the ashes, only the ghosts are awakened.

This has made me restless, made my skin itch. I am sad, I am amazed and I am almost able to see it. The crazy that happens when you can't help but look. I remember when I was young, I remember I did not care. I sang alleluia and gave myself to my impulses.

I grew up, I became a woman. I accepted life as it is, full of promise and just as full of pain. The reality is, I am glad of it. But I wonder what drives people to toss away all. To cry out alleluia and jump into the abyss. Are eyes wide open? No, I think the heart is crying and the eyes are blinded, but the need is so strong. The devastation is so final.

So I am in a mood. And I think of this. Almost perfect, this. It captures the feeling, you can feel it. You can.