Thursday, April 26, 2012
Sometimes we take risks that end up making us feel like idiots. Sometimes we sleep in strange rooms smelling of turmeric. Sometimes we spend the entire night dreaming about the spelling of our husband's name. Sometimes we write in first-person plural to avoid admitting that we have anything private to mourn. Sometimes we disappoint one child but not the other. Sometimes we keep beginning sentences with the same word because our brains don't know any better. Sometimes we imagine we'll be snared in the same net for the rest of our lives.