The Expectation is set, set so loftily that I have to squint to see it in the white blue sky.
But The Occasion does not rise to its occasion, (it never does) and The Expectation crashes, falls to the ground with a jeering finality.
And there it is.
In seconds it is ruined. An entire year I have been building this Expectation, and in seconds, mere seconds - it may have only been a heartbeat or a sharp intake of breath - it stubbornly wrecks itself, tries desperately to wreck me.
But I survive.
And as I stumble through the ruins, I meander to the place where I had paid extra attention to The Expectation. I had nurtured it, delicately constructed it - constructed it just for him. But he was not there. He had not been among the many faces I saw today, though with each new scan of the room I let The Expectation in me believe I would see him.
But he never came, and it is this finality that causes the fissure in The Expectation, triggers the domino effect that eventually brings it to the ground.
So I cry a little.
I nurse my injuries. And I rest.
And then I sigh.
And I get back up again to build a New Expectation, which will be grander than the last.
And I pray that it will not fall.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
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4 comments:
once again brie, so intricate, so delicate, and SO beautiful. i hope this thanksgiving binge event with the family wasn't too bad. i'm so glad that its done for the year. we'll have to chat later! i love you!
Brie, I totally agree with alana....you have a beautiful/delicate way of writing. Though I don't really know what "the expectation" is refrencing too your writing is definitely a pleasure to read......you really should consider writing a novel!
Brie, how do I say this? This entry is beautifully abstract.....to me. I know it's not so abstract to you, but know it's dang good. Remember, I'm so embarrassed to admit this, we used to give each other writing assignments (like eons ago)? You've come a long way (not to say that what you wrote previously was bad or anything, but I guess what it is, is that you've grown up). You're writing is poetic.
You are a beautiful writer. This is enigmatic to me, but I love it.
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