Maybe if I were anchored more in life outside of myself. Maybe if I had the discipline to become who I feel I should be. Maybe if I had the courage to expose and then vanquish unfounded fears. Maybe if I were somebody else.
I could handle that.
Instead...
***
"So did you let out your cat to go sledding in the snow?," I ask.
"No, she prefers to sit all day on the heater. I'm thinking I should push her down from it every time I catch her there - she's becoming obese and it can't be healthy for her."
"Maybe if you put her on a little leash and walked her through the apartment for half an hour every day, from the kitchen to the bathroom, the bedroom and then back into the living-room," I say.
"Maybe I'll give it a try."
"No, you won't," I counter.
"I told you to take her with you when you go out, to the bank, to the market, to the club so that she can get a real taste of life and see that life means more than just hugging a heater."
"I wish I could find more time to just talk to you," they sigh.
"Eh, where there's a will, there's a way," I decree.
I like decrees, I like definite assertions, I like right judgments, I like clear boundaries, I like palpable distances.
Maybe too much.
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