my pool
This past year been so difficult, more difficult than I can realize in the moment. Maybe I would do horribly in Iraq, or maybe my body has responded as it should to trauma: I have been clinging to the edge of the pool. I couldn’t see it until I was flying down the Pacific Coast Highway, feeling both terrified on the cliff and alive by its beauty. I felt that feeling in my fingers then, how tired they are from staying so stiff on the pool’s edge, creeping along, afraid to let go, my knees bumping up against the rough wall. It feels good to let go sometimes now, just a few inches from the edge.
