I always used to say,
“Someday,
I’ll look back at all this and laugh.”
“Someday,
I’ll wonder why I even cared.”
I don’t know if it’s Someday yet,
but I can already see
that those notions of eventual triumph
were more naive than the petty emotions
they were meant to overcome.
As I’ve drawn closer to the turgid purgatory of middle age
I’ve become increasingly certain,
that whichever maladies or malaises
are crawling around in my skull,
they’re following me into the grave.
Sometimes a silent surrender
is an invisible victory.
Sometimes balance
is the best umbrella.
