But I can’t stop staring at it.
Maybe it’s because my hair looks good, or my nails are done, or my boots are hot. Or maybe it’s because I feel like she’s somehow captured the the next stage of my life. Innocently assigned me my future.
In addition to my current posts as daughter, sister, friend, wife, mother, cook (currently on an accidental strike), cleaner (ditto), driver, homework overseer, reader, confidant, comforter, co-disciplinarian, problem-solver, writer, mediator, and ignorer, I’m soon-to-be a detective.
Where I was once in the lead, dragging her along, I’m now one step behind. Searching for clues to what she’s feeling. What she’s experiencing. What she’s doing. Who she’s becoming and how I fit into her world. Following a trail of my good intentions, praying they lead her in the right direction.
She meant nothing by it; it was just 7 seven colors colliding on a page.
And yet I still can’t stop staring at it.
Reading into it feelings that don’t yet exist, intentions not mature enough to be spotted, and creating scenerios like the over-thinker I can’t help being.
I hope those footsteps lead to her in the end.
(And that my legs look that good when I finally close the case.)
©2012 CEK. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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