And so it is –
Here is where we stood.
It was funny sometimes… the way you looked and smiled at me.
When we were twenty-three, we said our “I do’s” and began to build and live life in the ways we’d always planned. We moved, we traveled, we ran the world. Me and you and our family of two. There were Tuesdays and Wednesdays and Saturdays. Oh!, That was the best day! Late nights and early rises. I accepted you as you were. You never tried to change me. On those days, I’d make lunch for two and together we’d go to the Tempest Valley to stare at the lines in the cliffs. Make up stories for how they got there.
Over sashimi crumbs you’d paint my toes in the most awkward of ways, and I read you stories about Andromeda, Euclid, Pythagoras, and Thales with all of their deity endeavors and powers. Then we’d act out a passionate scene which ultimately led to us gazing deeply into the night.
You were my lighthouse. Firm. Sound. Calm. Even in the tumult that made up our childhood you were always so much more steady than me. How were you so always so still? I’d love to think it was me that anchored your spirit by contrast, but we both know with my chameleon-like nature, it’s ever-changing with each passing moment.
“There’s a time of the day, when you find just who you are. That’s the golden time of day.” Love, patience, persistence. We chose us. We chose it all.
I picked Maisy up from school today… She looked at me with her huge grey-green eyes and asked me where you were? She’s becoming aware. I suppose it’s been a few months now. Then she asked me if you were coming back? I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to tell her.
I just gave her a hug, kissed her sweet face and together, we cried. Maybe, I’ll have the words tomorrow.
-Olive Benson
