Wednesday, March 2, 2016

I Am What I Am

She was older than me. She had things like money, a job, a car, and bottles of soap with fancy lettering on the labels. She had a separate bank account where she deposited a little of every paycheck so she could travel. She wanted to see the world and had already done a pretty good job of it. So I asked her, I had to.

"I work so hard on everything else," she said, "every other aspect of my life. It's nice to call you up and have it be this easy. You just are what you are." And I wanted to ask her more, what was it, what am I, could she tell me what I was. But that would have put her on the spot. It might have been hard on her. And don't you know, she has enough of that as it is.

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