What’s the view like from where you are? Do you have a window, and how often do you look out it? Do you sleep with it open at night and listen to the sea? Do you ever write postcards? If you did, would you choose one that’s funny or one that shows off the scenery? I bet there’s a lot of postcard worthy scenery where you are now. I hope that scenery makes you happy, I really do. I hope that scenery is everything you ever wanted.
What’s it like living on an island? What’s it like making yourself into an island? Do you swim more now, and if you do, do you ever float on your back and test how long you can give yourself to the sea before you get scared? Does it ever scare you to jump so blindly into the water? It must be nice to always feel like life will keep you afloat.
What’s it like living across the Atlantic from home? Do you believe that home is a place or a state of mind? If you believe it’s the latter, does that mean it’s with you always or can you choose when to be separate from it? Do you ever look at the basilicas around you and feel small? Does feeling small remind you of your humanness, and if so, do you like being reminded that someday you’ll die but all those ancient buildings will still be standing?
What are the people like and are you lonely? Do you ever get lonely and if so, do you like that loneliness? Do you ever wonder why you choose to leave? Do you ride a bike over there? Do the girls ride bikes there and do you kiss them on bikes? Do you ever worry that you create your own aloneness because you’re scared of the alternative? Do you even know there’s an alternative?
What was it like in Alaska? Was the water cold there and did you ever get used to it? Did it ever feel like home and if so, did you call it home? Did you ever forget that we had a home together once. Did you remember what your childhood bedroom looked like? Did you ever plan on coming back home, and if so, what would that look like? Did you ever hope you could make a home again, and if so, could you take it all back and try again?
Did you ever think a whole year could pass by with you gone, and I’d still be here? Did you know that I would miss you and how many tears I cry now that you’re gone? Did you ever wonder how many tears a person could cry in a lifetime and if so, how many tears a girl would have to cry to make an ocean out of her sadness?
Life is for the living. The men I know are for the leaving. Just once, I wish they would ask me what it’s like to stay.