kolmanlit
We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live
I have always thought of myself as a lovely person.
At forty-three, I don't know how lovely I can be.
I have always liked relationships.
On the day we were to leave for our vacation
in Los Angeles,
I got the news that I have cancer.
We stayed in a motel
and went swimming every day.
The weather was very warm.
We had a wonderful time.
I even forgot the bad news.
My husband said:
"Think of this trip as life
and the time forward as your cancer."
I thanked him for the metaphor.
I truly found I was equal to life's surprises.
A week later, I shot the seventeen-year-old
young lady my husband was seeing
on the street
and ran skillfully away,
never to be caught.
I know my husband was surprised
and suspected me until I died.
Of course I never spoke a word of killing.
Nor did he.
I had an imagination of my own.
I committed my version of original sin.
And now I was fallen man (or woman)
living this marred life out to the end.
I was very careful to be kind to everyone.
I continued working
and enjoyed my relationships.
Life is a series of metaphors.
At forty-three, I don't know how lovely I can be.
I have always liked relationships.
On the day we were to leave for our vacation
in Los Angeles,
I got the news that I have cancer.
We stayed in a motel
and went swimming every day.
The weather was very warm.
We had a wonderful time.
I even forgot the bad news.
My husband said:
"Think of this trip as life
and the time forward as your cancer."
I thanked him for the metaphor.
I truly found I was equal to life's surprises.
A week later, I shot the seventeen-year-old
young lady my husband was seeing
on the street
and ran skillfully away,
never to be caught.
I know my husband was surprised
and suspected me until I died.
Of course I never spoke a word of killing.
Nor did he.
I had an imagination of my own.
I committed my version of original sin.
And now I was fallen man (or woman)
living this marred life out to the end.
I was very careful to be kind to everyone.
I continued working
and enjoyed my relationships.
Life is a series of metaphors.
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We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live
We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live