In between gigs, in between boyfriends, in between cities, in between days, I just like to write.
Dear Sun,
So, you’re back. You think you can just leave for six months - SIX MONTHS! - then waltz right in and be accepted with open arms?
All this time, I have been faithful to you, only to have you return for a day, maybe two, and then leave again. Heaven knows knows where you went. You didn’t write, you didn’t call, you just showed up and acted like nothing ever happened. Well, I needed you here, Sun. Did you ever think about that?
Where were you when I was left alone in the dark and cold? Where were you when I was diagnosed with vitamin D deficiency and had no idea why I felt so sad all the time? Where were you when I had to get my winter boots resoled, because I’d never worn them so often before? And it’s not just about me. What about our poor little Christmas Cactus who bloomed on Easter thinking that it was the middle of winter and his daddy might never ever come back?
Maybe I don’t even need you, Sun. When you weren’t here, I could just go get an ice cream cone whenever I felt like it, and I didn’t have to stand in line for 25 minutes. When you weren’t here, I wore all my favorite sweaters - at the same time! Now you’re back and you expect to me hurry out and get a pedicure, shave my legs - even above the knee - and wear my sheer low-neck blouse and mini-skirt, wrap my arms around your warm neck and kiss your face until my lips burn off?!?
Well, don’t assume that I can’t be happy without you, but the truth is, things are better when you’re here. So, you can come in.
But I’m still mad.
