The Imperfect Practice

He was like music in the wind.  One moment, the wind is in your favor, and the music is so strong that y ou can hear every breath, every pluck, every note so clearly, as if surrounded by an embrace. A melody tickling, prickling like hot breath on your neck. The next,  you are only left with an echo of a song and what is in your memory as the wind carries the music away from you. You can hum along, but you know that soon even the melody will be a memory.  That's how he was to her, and she knew it. He could not be held down, he could not be caught. She always knew the winds would change, and carry him away.  But she could never be mad, because she knew it was serendipitous that she ever heard the music in the first place. 

She rolled her eyes - nothing seemed to fit anymore. She scrubbed her hands across her forehead, trying to decide what made the best first impression. And what still fit her? As she scanned her closet, she tried to remember where she had stored all of her old clothes. The  old old  clothes. The ones that hadn't fit since... Bottom of the other closet. Sure enough, everything sorted and stored.  She pulled out the boxes and bags, trying to remember what she had kept. There was a time she thought that none of it would truly ever fit again, and she remembered getting rid of a lot of pieces she would love to have right now. But that was also a long time ago... She began digging through each bag and bin in the order it would get stacked back into the closet, continuing to purge and clean along the way, while also building a pile of clothes to try on. She made quick work of it, as she usually did. But this time, it was the excitement with intermittent anxiety th...

Love letters used to mean so much to her. She kept them - because she thought that words were so important. As she dug through the piles and envelopes years later, she couldn't help but feel like she was a bit of an idiot. It sounds harsh, but that's how she felt. In her hands were thousands of words proclaiming love never-ending, and yet she still felt so alone.  "We fit together pretty well, don't we?" She had thought the same - so much so that she had been willing to move halfway across the country so they could be together. But that fell apart when he said he couldn't promise a relationship when she got out there - how messed up is that? Another letter from another lover signaled the beginning of the end. "I don't want to get a cat because that means that I am not everything you need." She fumed at that letter - at the time and in retrospect.  Then she found what she was really looking for. A part of her hoped that she wasn't going ...

She did try to be selfish for a whole day, she truly did. But in all honesty, she only managed a few hours.  It was glorious, and did wonders for her soul. She thought she should try to do it more often, but wondered how she would peel herself away from the unending turmoil and day-to-day tasks of her life? What matters is, she was selfish for a few hours. And it was good for her soul. 

Making selfish decisions did not come easily. The first dozen things she thought of doing all had some benefit to another - whether it was supporting a friend through a hard time, making money to support her family, or working to make her community better. But she had decided to have a selfish day...or as much of one as she could manage. As she planned her day, her thoughts continued to wander back to what others might think of her selfishness, and if she should give up and be less selfish... Her heart still needed healing, she knew that much. And she knew that if she didn't learn to be a little bit selfish sometimes, she would break under the weight of it all. So, while it was a stretch outside of her comfort zone to invest in herself and make decisions only in her own best interest, she knew that it was necessary.  Or else she would snap under the weight of it all. 

She couldn't remember the last time she made a truly selfish decision. She honestly couldn't think of the last time she did something that benefited only her own self. Even the things she chose to do in her free time were done to help others or for the greater good of her family.  That thought weighed on her, like a heavy, wet spring snow on a tree already adorned with bright green leaves. She bent under the weight of it - not that it was a bad thing, but on top of everything else... She knew she couldn't bear the weight of everything. That, of course, was common sense. But lately, she had a hard time bearing the weight of even more than one thing at once. There is always a lot to be sad about in the world - so much. But all her life, she'd been able to stand it enough to keep tears from springing to her eyes at the thought of the tragedies, waiting until the right time to mourn and cry.  But it all weighed on her in such a way that she felt she couldn't...

It felt heavy and thick on her hand.  It was odd, like a shoe a half size too big that still pinched a toe. She stared at it on her finger, remembering the first time she ever wore it...remembering when he had placed it on her hand. That moment seemed a whole lifetime ago - just barely a memory - even though only a few years had passed. She felt the weight of it. Had it gotten heavier? She knew the answer was no, but somehow it felt ten times heavier and twice as thick as the last time she had the cold metal wrapped around her finger. She wanted it to feel comfortable, she wanted it to feel...good. She stared in the mirror, hoping that if she stared long long enough, her feelings would change....  Her gaze drifted to her own face. There were new lines. She rubbed at the canyon between her eyebrows - when did it become so deep? She didn't love it, or the lines on either side of her mouth, but she didn't care to be flawless either. She knew the lines on her face were e...