Lessons From the Kissing Booth

Oh, hello there, fall. I spent some time on Saturday afternoon sitting on my balcony, reading a book that tells all of my stories, and listening to your cold approach. I put my hands against my collarbone and didn't feel the humming of the Angry Robot, took a walk and savored a mouthful of diesel fumes and sweet decay when a leafblower kicked up a cloud of fallen leaves in my path. All of the strings I've held so tight for all of these months in the sun have unstrung and I am exhausted. Everything has changed and nothing has changed, and its all done or not-done so at a remarkable speed.

Lake Peigneur was an 11-foot-deep freshwater lake that sat on top of a salt mine, until one day when someone accidentally drilled through the top of the mine and drained all of the water. The water fell away so quickly that the force of it reversed the flow of a canal that led out to the Gulf of Mexico, and two days later Lake Peigneur was 1,300 feet deep and salty, home to an entirely new ecosystem. Just like that. Just-like-that is how all of my changing and not-changing seems to happen, filling all of my lakes with never before seen fish.

I'm happy to see you, fall, and very happy in general. This is not something that I've ever been good at expressing, because I'm more than half afraid that admitting it will jinx it, and tomorrow everyone I know will get hit by a bus and a stray space ship will take down the Space Needle and all of my hair will fall out. Twice.

But when you remember me, in that dream you always have where you are at a party and you don't know anyone, but that person in the gorilla suit looks like they might be familiar, I want you to remember me like this: windkissed and rainkissed and kissedkissed, green-coated and tasting of whiskey and champagne and salty winter soups. Back to mostly touching people with my palms, pretending to be Godzilla, making plans, and talking to friendly strangers.

This is what I'll need you to remind me of, tomorrow, when we're bald and huddling in the ruins of the EMP, hiding from space invaders.