Tuesday, January 31, 2012

I am recovering from heartbreak in the ways that I know, with evenings and long afternoons in favorite bars with favorite people, with late nights and comfortable books or a hand in my hair and teeth at my throat, with dance parties both planned and impromptu, with hugging babies and friendly dogs and with long slow walks home and many very deep breaths. Speaking mostly in metaphors and quiet lies and onomatopoeia, trading in optimism, scheming and plotting and having capers. Of all the lives I could be having, this is very far from the worst, even with a small dose of crying in cabs and unfortunate bar bathrooms. Peace will be brokered and life will move on, softened and cracked but still so much better than the alternative. Already the trees of my city are considering when to bloom.

There are two hummingbirds living in my trees now. It's possible that there have been two all along, of course, but it's only recently that I have seen both of them at the same time. One of them seems completely unafraid of me, letting me get close enough to touch were I willing to risk ruining everything. In the Secret Garden it's a friendly robin that leads the way to something exciting, but I'm willing to bet that the hummingbirds have something new in mind. Seems as logical a thing to believe as any other.

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