Mark's skin glows in the morning yellow coming through the loft's skylight. I trace his biceps and bite his shoulder as he arches into me. He waits for me to open my eyes then looks at me so intensely I think I might die of exposure.
With the blankets on the other end of the bed, our legs and arms entwined and some small portion of our passion spent, Mark says, "We should do something outside today."
"Well, I have to go pick up Weed," I say. Then, "We could go to the park by my mother."
We make the hour drive south and just as we are turning into the park, lights start flashing. I've got a broken brake light. It also turns out I've got a suspended license. I'm sure there were really good reasons I didn't pay those things, like wanting groceries or medicine or heat or the internet or a bottle of wine, but as I'm sitting in the car feeling like a complete fuck up who fails at being an adult, there can't be a good enough reason in the world.
Mark,the peace bringer and anxiety slayer, grabs my hand, "It's OK. We'll figure it out."
He drives to the parking lot and we start hiking through glens, along the river bed. Mark falls behind as he takes pictures and I wander ahead, marveling at rocks slowly cut by water. I am still crying when Mark catches up.
"You OK?" he asks.
"I wish I was a better rock."
"You think you shouldn't feel things..."
"No. Look at that rock," I say. He turns around and I hug him from behind. Standing on a rock, I am leaning over his shoulder. "The rock is there and the water keeps running, eroding it and the rock has no will to resist the water; it just changes exactly how it needs to change."
I wipe my eyes and start down the path. Mark holds my hand. In a few minutes he says, "I think you're a good rock."
"Yeah, well I think you're some damn good water."
Comments (5)
I like!
And I melt.
these are all easy fixes. i hope the ticket wasn't too steep.
wow.