Sitting on a log bridge, maybe with a Gazebo nearby, not a usual place for us to go. I recall some sensations and images but the details are mud. I remember crying, hers - mine. I remember looking at her freckles in the bright sun, the edge of her top teeth a shimmer of white under soft lips, trying to not look at the betrayal I saw in her eyes. I was not sure why I was doing it even then. Trying to prove my independence. I didn't want to be free of her, just wanted to feel free. It didn't work, that I remember. Couldn't break away felt like I was tearing my own stomach out with both hands. I say stupid trivial things hoping she'll get angry and yell, break the spell, storm off. It doesn't work, always she demanded reasons for everything I said. I, who steamed ahead with all my emotions at whatever was in front of me. Who could turn around the next day forgetting every thing I'd said and be hurt that she hadn't forgotten the fight.

Such strong spirit in some memories, when the words have long been burned from the mind by nearer and greater tragedies. When I can still remember tilting back my head in the sun wishing I had never said a word, had just enjoyed that day of sun and dappled shadows.
great beauties losses drama trauma pride shame fear pain laughter futility strength joy exuberance tears sobs
Days like today I want to sit and cry on a busy street corner. Big scary guy like me crying in public, might make someone talk for once, at least during a commercial. The simple vague obscurity of me, most would turn their heads decide I was mad, or drunk or drugged. Steer their children away from the sight of simple sadness in the world before turning on their television and witnessing the atrocity shouted from every corner newsstand.
If only you could turn back the clock to those summer days to council yourself, there's plenty of sadness left in your days to come. Enough struggling in the world. Enough days to come when the rain is pouring down when a memory about maple and pine shifting in warm breezes might make a difference. Today I am sad, and this writing is just making it worse.