Life

At 30 years old, life gripped me by the throat, pushed me against a wall and

said: “Hey, you. Beautiful, brown-eyed, girl from sunny, Southern Cali. Pools?

Beaches and sand crabs? Summer barbecues? Living your best life with the

soundtrack to match. Bliss is over. You’re not exempt. Welcome to the club.

Introduce yourself. Take a seat. Now’s the time for your pain, your betrayal, your

grief.”

“Remember the tears at the funerals? Now, it’s your turn. Remember the

marriages dissolving. Now, it’s your turn. Remember the nightmares? The

blackouts? Now it’s your turn. Remember when I introduced you to violence at

the age of two? Sorry, my friend, you have to fight again. I see you’ve lost a few.

Sorry, you’re so black and blue. You appear a bit dazed, even confused. Look

around. You’re not alone. We’re all beaten and bruised. Sorry, it’s true. That’s just

the way it is and there’s nothing you can do.”

“Leave? Oh no. Come now. Your eyes are opened. Life can’t send you back to

bliss. You’re too jaded. Too broken. Don’t be silly. You can’t run and you can’t

hide. Someone bring the tissues. There, there. Don’t cry. Sit back down.

Welcome again to our town. It’s mainly toil and trouble. I really hate to be the

bearer of bad news. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Ahh. It’s a shame. It happens to the best of us. Remember that sweet girl from

Michigan? What was her name? Anyway. You poor thing. You were so demure.

Awfully bright, I’d say and quite secure. Life hurts. The saddest part is, there is no

cure.”

“Life has come to collect you. Consider it a debt. And payment is due.

Well now, before you try to explain…it’s not a mistake. Your name is right

here. Clear as day. Listen, my dear. You came into this world with nothing and

you leave with nothing. Seems pretty fair to me. Now, go on. Make yourself at

home. How about some tea?”

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