I stopped thinking about
specifically who and what I wanted for my life and just started thinking about
what I hoped it would look like. There was this woman holding a glass of white
wine at a networking thing. The space was neat and industrial – exposed brick,
polished concrete floors, slick steel finishes, exposed beams. Anyway the
five-o-clock sun came through and hit her glass at an angle so that the white
wine looked more like a bunch of diamonds had melted into a big, liquidy puddle
in her glass, and I thought that I needed to be drinking a glass of what looks
like melted diamonds right before the sun sets in some thoughtful, inspiring place, maybe
Europe, soon. I thought about the tiles on the wall in my future kitchen. What
would the tiles look like? Maybe a backsplash made up of small black and white
octagonal tiles would be really nice. Maybe I would have a big window right above
the sink where I could watch someone I love reading a book I wrote in the
backyard. After that I would go pick up some flowers or get coffee or do
something that always looks really artsy on all of the blogs I follow but
actually just makes me feel lonely, like read in bed or put on an expensive
sweater, but maybe then, after my time in Europe and my black and white kitchen
and my somebody reading a book I wrote, all of the things that make me feel
lonely won’t, anymore.
