My weekend was cut short. Tock drove me back to NH on Saturday afternoon, and then drove himself back to VT a mere 7 minutes after pulling into our driveway.
There will come a day when I’ll be able to write about Hillary. But I can’t right now, and it’s not because she’s private but it’s because the words don’t come together properly. They are a puzzle still in pieces at the back of my throat. We all say the same thing: this isn’t what we’re supposed to be doing, but we do it because it’s what we were meant to do. It doesn’t make sense, I know that.
Late Fragment
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
Raymond Carver