It feels to me like a combination of fears, this perspective. Fear that this idea of love allows for the love you have today (or might have tomorrow) to fall short of forever. Fear that your standards for love should be so high that only one experience should ultimately meet them, and the resulting fear that the only way to recognize and defend the one you want to last is to make (and attempt to live by) a cosmic ultimatum.
You’re introduced to two gorgeous Irish firestarters who are cutting the world up into their own collage, in ways that make so much sense to you that you just can’t help but smile. Two young women carrying around a lot of what makes you you, but all the pieces are weighted differently, and these women seem to totally rock in all the ways you would love to rock but don’t.
This place was unusually homey for a Starbucks, as there was this fall sunlight dropping in through the musty front window, where she was perched on their cushioned bench along the wall, legs crossed, elbows on her lap. She was picking at her scone with one hand and her hair was deep and dark, backlit by orange yellow sunbeams as it fell around her shoulder. She was gazing lazily at the little boy a few feet away who was crawling on his father, a strong man clad in army camos.
It makes answering the ‘how are things going?’ question a very difficult one to answer, because until things are decidedly doing so well you’re almost surprised by it all, you’re really just surviving. Things are going well because you get to be inside of your project and the world revolves around your ideas.
The car radio was still playing Layla. The Derek and the Dominos’ Layla…the aggressive, haunting, screamy version of one of rock’s greatest songs. It was nothing short of torture, sitting there terrified, sirons in the distance, knowing the world was about to assess the total destruction of our adolescence.
We were graciously afforded the Lincoln Sabre (I’ll never forget the model) to head into ‘town’ to kill some time. What that means, in fact, is that it was still light out, maybe mid afternoon, and we were allowed to drive into Galena to “check out the shops”. That, to us at the time, meant laugh at the locals and putz around, talking about pressing highschool social matters for a few hours before returning home for dinner on the grill next to the lake. We were in highschool and we were needing to escape, and we all felt alive as we headed into town.