Posted March 20th, 2004 by Michelle

I was just in the bathroom, listening to the murmur of conversation and the running of dishwater. At some instant moment, the conversation ended, but the water kept running. I washed my hands, stepped out, and found three sleeping bodies and one awake and washing. One of the three is going through some particularly familiar and difficult heartache, and she was being consoled by the other two who happen to be madly in love. They were on the floor, talking, and when I came out of the loo, he was between the two, one arm around the woman he Loves, and another around the woman he loves, and they are fast asleep still. The best man I know is still busy washing tonight’s dishes, and I pushed “repeat” on the Police album that is currently filling the three’s dreams about walking on the moon.

I looked for my computer and found it nestled on top of another. Mine is smaller, less flashy, and white, but it was cozy on top of a sleek, silver big brother and both computers were sleeping in time. The little sleep lights, which are perfect heart beats, were pulsing just barely one before the other. My cell phone turned up next to another of its like, waiting for me on the chest of drawers next to the warm yellow light.

I know what it is in me that pulled me away. It was simply many things at once. But more than ever, more than I’ve ever known, I am the lucky girl. I have this, and this, I have these friends, I have this dad, these brothers, this mom, these people whose love is nothing short of miraculous. There is nothing else.

I am going to do my best to see what I have. I don’t know how good I’ll be at it. I’m very good at promising my time and effort to people I don’t know, but not as practiced at giving to the people I already love. Including myself. But I am going to try. That’s the best I can do right now. What I can do is be thankful, every day, for you, and for you, and for you. And you.

My friend just came in and said that he was going to wake the twosome in the three and send them to bed. I asked him not to, to let them be, to let someone good hold the third, even if just for a few minutes in sleep.