I have always been one for goal setting.  It sounds arrogant to say that everything I have set out to accomplish I have accomplished.  Some of my unrest stems from not knowing what should come next.  I have set lofty goals and I am working on them.

I like to surround myself with people I adore and enjoy but they cannot fill spots that I need filled.  I don’t want to be with someone that needs to keep searching for someone when I am right in front of him.  I don’t want to be with someone that wants to pin me down.

I suppose this is a contradiction.  I think it is about a perfect balance.

I have been spending time in the dirt and planting things.  I have been spending hours reading, writing and researching.  I have been reaching out to people and going out to dinners, lunches and breakfasts.  I am set on learning new facts and pulling out new experiences.  I am going to be selfish with my motivations.  I am learning more about my children and who they are.

A friend asked me what I wanted.  He wanted me to explain to him exactly what it was that I wanted:  I can’t.  I don’t know.

But a part of me does know.

I want my crappy house to be transformed into a garden.  I am learning photography.  I am signed up to learn how to ride a motorcycle.  I am going to start taking more university classes.  I am going to finish my New York Times Best Seller.  I have a software program to write.  I have a kitchen to paint.  I have new appliances to purchase.  I have a homeless man I am going to help.  I am getting an exchange student that will come and live with me.

I picture myself kissing this handsome man with beautiful eyes.  I like that he is tall.  I like that this man is young, muscular, and lean.  I like that he is brilliant and well educated.  I close my eyes and remember the night our lips touched.  But there was no kiss.  I carry this moment with me.  It is full of mystery.  I don’t know if I want to break the spell.  I can’t be arrogant enough to think or assume he wants me to.   We carry on our conversations.  I like him in my days.  I don’t want any friendship to go away.

I am twenty-two and I am living in Sevilla.  His name is Claudio and he has deep green eyes and jet black hair.  We had been out dancing all night long with all of our friends from Cornell, Michigan and Sevilla University.  I am married.  He tells me how beautiful I am.  I remind him I am married.  I see his face, his lips, his eyes.  This moment is perfectly filled with an impossibility.  In this exact moment I do want to kiss him.  That voice inside that says, “No one would know.”

But I cannot and I don’t.  That is not who I am.  I have a firm sense of that.


I don’t want to ruin the memory.  So I go and work in the dirt.  I think of this Viking ship, Scotland and the Nords.  I want to see green hills and thistles.  I want to hear bag pipes.  I think of this history.  I am going to cook Celtic food and give some to my close friends.  I am going to go on more dinner dates and learn more about people around me.  I am going to plant sunflowers in the full sun and watch them grow.  I am going to speak French like I speak Spanish.

And in all this I think near kisses are sweeter than real ones.