As I sat at that cool, slightly sticky counter and entertained my taste buds with a fudge-laden, cherry-topped sundae, I embroiled myself in an unexpectedly heady conversation with a friend who would be closer - if only time allowed. * Why does everything become so poignant when you're running out of time? * Suddenly I felt the weightlessness of being unencumbered by domestic conventions. All the days, weeks, months spent lamenting how I was so far behind, feeling that hollowness in my chest at the latest revelation that someone was buying a house/engaged/pregnant. All the while hoping that this holding out for something to funnel all of these "bigger than me" thoughts and intentions into was going to pay off. As my life-weary, would-be-closer friend gave me a pep-talk about how and why not to be intimidated by the latest path I had chosen, as neighbors were lured in by the days flavors, as friends dished over their scoops, I felt exhilarated. Odd place for that, an ice cream parlor. I realized that yes, I was taking up yet another risk, maybe one that upon its revelation struck a hollowness in those who heard it. And yes, my path was different. But I was indeed not behind. And perhaps part of the promise for the pay-off to those of us not yet resigned to domestic conventions.
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