Bent Words

Bent Words

June 25, 2022

It's like the mulberry tree.

During an adult gathering on the sunny hill of Summer Camp, the daycare director took a handful of mulberries from the tree and passed them around to the few of us hanging out in a circle. I popped my share into my mouth without thought. They were juicy and delightful and reminded me of the blackberry bushes along the bike trails that my father and I rode when I was a little. I'd clear the best from the bushes and we would plod on.

"There's tiny bugs all over mine," someone said while carefully inspecting the berry in his hand. My heart jumped for a moment as the remaining adults in the group tossed their berries to the ground.



But that's how it goes with me. I just do it sometimes. Heedless of the repercussions. And the berries were delicious. Even with the extra protein.

Maybe it's bad of me to be this way, especially after all these years when I should really stop to consider, but it's who I am to the core. I'm spontaneous and impulsive. If I think "I need a haircut," it's not soon or in the future. It's right now.

It's just that the reckless side of me wants to L I V E. Before it's too late.

The side where I have no responsibilities or obligations. The side that wants to run and explore and find new things and meet new people. The side that knows life is too short to be unhappy or unsure. The side that needs stimulation and adventure, passion and purity. The side that longs to be understood in the same way that I seek to understand others.

The side that yearns to escape and have a place to go.

The side that doesn't have to apologize for the way she is.

Written at 9:40 a.m.