Tail Spin

Back at the apartment, there is no falling asleep. The headache returns. Business as usual, and I don't know what it's trying to tell me. The afternoon escalated into playdates and friends from yore, all bringing babies and discussions on house buying. The little town remains, safe for another generation. By the time I packed up, my head was spinning.

Quick stop at the other end of the pendulum and they were already downing shots of Jack Daniels; I was not late in joining. Some sorrow to drown, some victory to celebrate, no matter. I had forgotten what it was like to be with people who spoke my language, to be with people in whose eyes I had talent of any use. He walked me to the train and told me all the hidden things when it was too late. I had to stand inside the train to listen, so it would not leave without me. Spent three hours trying to focus my eyes and passing out just before the call for Stockholm Central.

This is a long life, and confusing. We hold on, that the train does not leave without us. That we are not left on the platform, bags in hand, spring in our step and nowhere to go. We hold on, because one day we will be glad we did.